Part the Third
by E. M. Pink
Summary: The arrival of Tobias Snape at Hogwarts causes a mindboggling amount of trouble, most of it for Tobias himself, who is not all that he seems. Third installment in the Tobias Snape Saga. WIP. ABANDONED.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

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_A/N: I own none of these characters except the parts I (perhaps wrongly) fleshed them out. And I'm certainly making no money from this, of course. _

_And here it is: the first chapter of **Part the Third**. May there be many more!_

_The title speaks for itself._

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**Chapter 1: Arrival**

Tobias' fingers reached for his hair before he could stop himself. Sighing in part acquiescence, part despair, he let his fingers thoroughly ravage his silky hair, then restrained their nervous movement, smoothing down his hair with a muttered wandless spell.

Severus' eyes snapped to him immediately, but all he did this time was raise a bushy eyebrow. Tobias felt his cheeks heat up, but held his fa – uncle's gaze all the same. When Severus rolled his eyes and looked out of the compartment window instead, the blush deepened to its fullest extent, which, he knew well, was a pink sheen that only added a little more colour than was needed to his pale face. He shifted discreetly in his seat, steering his eyes away from his fa – uncle.

_No mistakes_. He could not afford them now, now that brewing and administering the complex _Oppilavi_ potion was out of the question. Severus and Dumbledore had tersely pounded that fact into him – that despite Harry's now considerable skills as an Occlumens, Voldemort might inadvertently sense something from the dormant connection between them. Consequently, for the first two weeks at Hogwarts, Harry would continue to take the powerful blocking potion, then taper off its usage once he felt confident of the ability to think carefully. Of course, for sensitive discussions like the weekly meetings with Severus, Tobias would drink enough of the potion to keep his mind free of interference for as long as was needed, then extract the most potentially dangerous particulars of the meeting and swirl them into a special flask.

Tobias looked up at his – his uncle, and sighed. He'd known that he'd have to stop taking the unpalatable blocking potion at some point, and he'd _known_ that keeping the fact of his survival a secret from Voldemort would take some serious manoeuvring, but seriously –

"Are you going to watch me throughout this journey, Tobias?" The question was asked in a mild (for his uncle) tone of voice, and the accompanying emotion Tobias could see in the dark eyes of his uncle was staggering.

Tobias could only look away, and mumble something indistinguishable in reply.

"There is no shame in professing to a case of nerves, boy." Tobias felt his eyes widen in shock as a slightly hysterical laugh fought for release. _Nervous, indeed_ –

"Does the phrase 'nervous enough to piss yourself' mean anything to you?"

"The absence of nerves in your current state would be more a cause for concern than admiration, Tobias," Severus continued sharply, as if Tobias had never even spoken. Toby – it felt more natural that way, for now – snorted softly to himself. What a _joke_ – he was sitting in what felt like someone else's skin, answering to someone else's name, taking on an identity at odds with everything he'd ever known, and his reaction to the entire bizarreness of the situation was _normal_.

Tobias – Toby snorted again. The irony was painful enough to make him wince. If only –

"However, there comes a certain point where to leave you to your own thoughts and devices," Severus sneered, "borders on the imprudent. Consequently – " he thoughtfully closed the slightly worn-looking _Circumspect Cauldron_ magazine, " – you will recite for me the orders and uses of the protection charm – "

"_Protego_, you mean?" Tobias pressed, just to say something. His throat seemed to be functioning rather oddly – not really working –

"If I affirm your stupidity, I will be forced to do so again. Do _not_ interrupt – as I was saying, you will recite for me the orders and uses of _Protego_, as well as the ten Words of Warding." Black eyes narrowed at a slightly startled Tobias. "Well? Begin. Immediately."

Tobias sighed expansively, just to remind his fa – _uncle_ that he wasn't going to submit to this quite so readily.

"The orders of _Protego_ are five, sir…" _Quite so readily _indeed_. I'm starting to _sound_ like him, for heavens' sake_…

But the train journey passed easier, as Toby lost himself in the arcane theory surrounding some of the more innocuous spells he had learned in the last few awful and not-so-awful months. Because it was much easier to argue over the proper use of the Manipulation Charm than to think that he would be back in Hogwarts, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, with unfamiliar dorm mates, and, of course, living what would most certainly be an unfamiliar life.

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Severus gave Toby several long looks as they slipped through the Entrance Hall and darted down the twisted staircase on the left, the bumps and groans of his rather unwillingly hovering trunk following them as they made their way through numerous passages Tobias was sure he would never remember.

"Are you ready?" The question was almost too quiet to hear, but –

"Don't ask me that. There is no _ready_, now – I'll either conform or die," Toby replied, his words coming out far sharper than they were intended. Anxiety roiled anew in his stomach, but did not show on his new, blank face. The whole situation suddenly seemed ridiculously dangerous – something he would _never_ be able to pull off. "Or perish, if you'd prefer."

"I've no idea why you persist in thinking I enjoy using overly complex words for simple things, Tobias," Severus retorted, the concern disappearing smoothly from his face. "Death is death, no matter how glorious the word or heroic the event. I suppose you understand your situation…partially." At the subsequent burning look of inquiry Tobias felt radiating from his traitorous pores, Severus – he – he actually _smiled_. "You left out an option, nephew mine."

"Really." Interesting how one could talk around teeth that were gritted in almost pure panic.

Really interesting –

"You may also disappear, if you fail to either conform or die. There is always escape, for the resourceful desperate." The statement so staggered Toby that it was a long moment – one filled with ensuring his trunk had not abandoned him – before he could actually think to ask what had occurred to him, on hearing that.

"And am I?"

"Hmm?" Severus gave him a rather negligent look, as if he'd not been listening, and could not care to. Toby pressed anyway – it was one of the talents he'd really learned in the dungeons of Snape Manor, really, to persist when his uncle seemed most indifferent.

It usually yielded the best results, so –

"Am I one of the resourceful desperate, uncle?" They were nearby – he could feel it from the way Severus seemed to slow, the way his back muscles clenched subtly.

"Not yet, Tobias – if you play your cards right." Toby wondered how on earth one could mix a threat and a good-luck wish so flawlessly, and –

Whispers from nearby, pitched high enough to be younger students, who would not think to pay attention to Tobias' last odd comment. At least it wasn't –

"Who's that?"

"Odd – he looks like – "

"Professor Snape! We didn't – ah – see you…"

The two Slytherin third years stuttered slightly under the pointed glare their Head of House sent their way as he strolled past them to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, followed by Toby, feeling decidedly ill at ease. As he looked upon the blank wall the students were now dithering in front of, all he could remember was his first and only foray into the common room that awaited him now.

The common room that had, through the twisted circumstances that brought him here, become his own.

"Inside the common room, Graham, Malcolm – you too, Dobbs," Snape added as a slim, frightened-looking girl slipped seemingly out of the blank wall before them. The three students obeyed instantly, scuttling into the low-roofed, cosy green-and-silver room, which was packed with noisy students. As Snape stepped into the common room, followed by the increasingly awkward-feeling Toby, the noise and chatter rapidly diminished, every eye turning to Severus Snape and his young, now scowling charge.

The scowl had really appeared without him thinking – softening it would serve no purpose.

_Shite_, Toby thought wildly, _I _do_ sound like him in my head_.

Ugh. Just – ugh.

"Welcome back, all of you," Snape began easily. "I trust you've made good use of your two weeks of rest…now, as I warned you, this evening I have the honour of presenting to you all," he gestured slightly towards the boy beside him, "my apprentice and nephew, Tobias Snape." A series of polite nods in his direction, as well as a smattering of nervous applause, could be heard as Snape lightly cleared his throat and continued. "Tobias will be joining the sixth year in all but name. I trust," he eyed the nearby trio of Malfoy the younger, Crabbe and Goyle here, "that you will treat him well." He turned slightly towards his brooding, inwardly nervous nephew. "This is where I leave you, Tobias. Good evening…"

An amused expression somehow fought out the scowl on Toby's face as he made a short answer he hoped, _hoped_ would be correct, under the circumstances.

"Thank you, sir."

"I'll see you get your timetable in the morning at breakfast," Snape continued, as the Slytherins in the common room slowly went back to their activities, the announcement evidently over. Toby nodded again, repeating his reply, acutely feeling the eyes of all the sixth years – and those of a good deal of the other Slytherins – on him. Snape nodded, then, after a seemingly cursory look around the common room, he left as silently as he came in, leaving the slender boy to the wolves.

Tobias tried not to cringe at his dramatically pounding heart, and stilled the automatic reflex of reaching for his wand as Draco approached him. He wondered angrily, irrationally, how Severus could have left him here, within two feet of a friendly Draco Malfoy, with nothing but unscrupulous Slytherins as an audience. An incantation had already begun to form on his lips as Draco eyed him appraisingly, but died a hasty death when the smug young manextended his hand in greeting.

"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy," he said, genially, giving Toby's hand a light shake as his eyes seemed to follow something over Tobias' shoulder. Har – oh _god_, _Tobias_ quelled the urges to retch, kick the smug bastard in the nuts, and slice him open with a well-chosen _Diffindo_, and simply accepted the handshake, ignoring the _other_ urge to look over his shoulder into the bargain. "These are my friends – " _friends, ha_ – "Vince and Greg. You'll meet everyone else later at dinner – that's in an hour or so, I think. I take it that that's your trunk…?"

Tobias held the condescending glance those hateful grey eyes threw him, and forced his features into a condescending half-smile. He'd be damned, damned to darkest _hell_, if he let this little – this utter _bastard_ intimidate him in _any_ way.

"Of course. Interesting décor you have in here, by the way." A little lift of the upper lift, a little emphasis on the accent, and _voila_ – condescension returned. "Very comfortable." Emphasise the last word, and hey presto! An insult, disguised as a compliment.

_Besides_, Toby thought smugly, as surprise flickered in Draco's eyes – _can't call him Malfoy, now, can I? Bad memories, there – might make me a tad _unbalanced_, really_ – it was only what he was meant to do, show strength in the face of Draco's bent for acquiring minions, and acquire allies of his own. Rival _Draco_ in his little dream for the domination of the House – all in the interest of the Order, of course.

If every confrontation with him went like this, Toby thought he'd have to give them up. Spying was supposed to be dangerous, not dangerously enjoyable.

"…year dormitories are this way," Draco was saying, giving Crabbe and Goyle dismissive shakes of the head when they started to follow the pair. Toby nodded diffidently, following the blond as he weaved his easy way through the crowd, which instinctively parted for him as well. He tried not to smile again – if he played his cards right, as Severus had said, they would carry on keeping out of his way in this manner. For now, however, the influence of Draco's pleasant reception was enough. "The girls' dorms are over here – and very, _very_ hard to get into, after certain hours," he winked at Tobias, "and mostly not worth the trouble, since the girls can enter ours, which is here." He gestured at a sturdy oak door with an engraved silver "6th years" plaque on it, and, in a move that struck Toby as rather unusual, held the door open.

Toby felt his engaging smile falter as, after shoving his old trunk unwillingly through, he was forced to brush past an oblivious Draco, who seemed to be peering about the corridor in search of something. He clamped down on the overwhelming urge to hit the boy, curse him and scrub himself raw, in that order.

Somehow, in the following nosy conversation, Toby managed to hold on to his distant half-smile and composure, mostly by reminding himself exactly _how_ long it would take for Lucius Malfoy to die of a Vein-Opener. Thankfully, his son either got the hint, or grew tired of his vague answers and steady, unspoken refusal to open his old trunk, and started on the subject of the common routines in the dormitory.

It was hard enough being back here, really, Toby thought to himself, as Draco droned on cheerfully, not seeming to care if he was listening or not. Hard enough without being two feet from the son of the man who'd tortured you with a smile on his face just two months ago. Toby sighed a little to himself, making sure to breathe deeply, to batten down the rage and disgust that was threatening to break through.

_He'll shut up soon enough_, he reminded himself, nodding politely as Draco asked if he'd be all right, evidently preparing to leave the dorm. And so he did, shutting the door, his careless, easy stride irritating Tobias all the more. Grunting in angry disgust, the lanky boy rapidly flicked out his wand, performing the familiar wand movements of the _Deprimo clamor_ silencing ward.

He didn't even trust the walls around him, at the moment.

Adding a limited _Orsus Admoneo_ warning ward that extended just a bit farther than the silencing ward, he finally relaxed, and began to study the room. Not really noticing the muted, green-and-silver décor, unfamiliar, deep green bed curtains and the various Quidditch posters here and there, but noting the strange, sharp corners, and the door that led, presumably, to the showers, and how well it would defend.

Suddenly realising he was examining the wooden panels on the walls suspiciously, Tobias gave himself a little shake. No use getting _too_ paranoid so early in the scheme of things, no matter how nervous he was. Dropping his wand on the bed – easily within reach, of course – he reached up his left sleeve to tug on the tightly fastened snake therein. Carefully, because she'd become apt to bite if startled too much.

_Master_, the black adder greeted him perfunctorily, as always, shifting dry scales against his shirt. _Something worries you…?_

_You know me too well, Iona_, Tobias sighed easily, stroking her dark head as she shifted slightly lower on his left arm. She'd been asleep for most of the train journey, waking up only to demand food or water and to poke her head out of the neck of his robes and declare that the motion of the compartment made her feel ill. _It's nothing – or will be. Do not trouble yourself about it_.

_May I sleep in your bed, Master?_ The snake inquired, settling her still small head in the armpit of his soft shirt. Tobias's smile widened into a rare grin - _trust her to ask about sleeping quarters first thing_ – as he lifted his sleeve so he could give her a look over. Her scales gleamed dully with health, thankfully, so nothing about the castle or the train had had an adverse effect on her so far.

_Yes, Iona_, he replied, drawing his sleeve over his arm and edging over the bed. It was time for him to unpack – quickly – so that no one could return in time to see the strange items within his new trunk. _But do not emerge in the morning until I call you – it is important that my dorm-mates learn of you before they see you._ Iona gave her version of a nod, moving a coil even lower on his arm. Tobias called his wand to him, pronounced the requisite unlocking spell, and began to levitate the most pressing items he would need – namely, robes, books and whatnot. Flicking his wand and muttering under his breath, he settled his items in their proper places, positioning everything just how he had grown used to, in the dungeons of Snape Manor – his night robe within easy reach, schoolbooks haphazardly strewn beneath his bed, his spare wand holster joining his worn bag by his bedside table. His almost offensively gleaming new dragonhide boots settled with a _thump_ beside his low, dark chest of drawers, followed by the soft lambswool night-boots Dumbledore had pressed on him at some point last week, weariness in his blue eyes.

And that weariness would stay for a while yet, Toby mused, magically shutting all the open drawers. The Order had a long way to go before being even _near_ the victory the old wizard hoped for. Tobias, after one last cursory look inside, shut his trunk and locked it closely, warding it strongly with the Web of Warning and several other simple wards, finally adding the most delicate ward of all – the _Tacitum Nota_. Severus had taught it to him for hours, going over and over the small, complex flicks; the method for opening and closing; and, most important, the delicate distinction of thought as you cleared your mind of everything but the 'secret word' as you murmured the spell, forcing the spell out gently.

Becoming still with concentration, Toby created the ward, keeping his mind clear until he felt the sharp tingle of the magic of the spell in front of him. Pointing his wand at the trunk experimentally, he shut his eyes and imagined the shimmering black scales of Iona, glittering dully with his blood as she lay beside him, waiting for the final strike on that eventful evening of his death as the world knew it.

The lock clicked gently open, and he smiled in grim satisfaction, clicking it shut with a flick of his wand, filling his mind with those shimmering black scales again.

And not a moment too soon – looking at the clock, he saw that it was time that he left for supper. Toby stood easily and quickly, nudging the lazy snake a little higher up his arm so she would not be noticed if his robe sleeve fell down, or something. The Silencing and Warning Wards came down easily, and he was soon in the half-empty Slytherin common room, following a group of chatty fourth years up to the Great Hall, where he paused, taking a deep breath.

_Go through the midst of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables,_ he could almost hear Severus saying. _Make sure to attract attention as you approach the High Table, but do not appear self-conscious. To you, it should appear to be the quickest route to my side_…

Tobias Snape pushed open one of the doors to the Great Hall and stepped immediately through, forcing his features into a look of bored disinterest as several sets of eyes snapped to him. He further ignored the gasps of recognition as he turned and began to weave his way through standing students between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables and made for the High Table. As the comments around him became louder and less discreet, he found himself hard pressed to keep a straight face.

"So _that's_ what Snape would look like if he washed his hair," he distinctly heard from a tall Ravenclaw seventh year he'd just past.

"Wonder what the hell he's doing here – "

"Do you think he's here to teach Potions?"

"Maybe he's Snape's son?"

"Never – can you honestly imagine anyone _touching_ Snape of their own free will?"

"Uncle," Tobias inclined his head in Severus' direction, sliding gratefully into the seat beside him.

"What on earth did you think you were doing, coming up the centre of the hall like that?" was the displeased reply, said loud enough that several of the rather jumpy-looking Slytherin first years started.

"Sitting by you at the High table, just like you said," Toby replied coolly, playing with one of the golden forks before him on his empty plate. Severus gave him a hard look, then focussed his attention on the plate that had filled before him. Tobias picked up his cutlery with a negligent, easy air – drummed into him during the hours when he'd been too tired to stand, in the dungeons – and began on the food that had magically appeared before him. He ate silently, fighting the flush of embarrassment that rose as people kept pointing and whispering. At least the High table didn't have too many teachers on it. Toby wouldn't have had the faintest idea how to manage around the other professors, most of whom were seated a healthy distance away from him and the decidedly sour-looking Potions Master.

Toby hazarded a look down the table, just to see who was present this evening. Dumbledore absent, of course – he imagined he'd see even less of him now that he was safe and sound at Hogwarts. A weary Professor McGonagall discussing something with Professor Flitwick. Professors Sprout, Sinistra, and Hooch almost at the end of the table, all sneaking looks at him – _right, looking away_..._let's see_…No Hagrid, and no Professor Vector – just one or two other teachers he knew only by sight, the depressed-looking Muggle Studies teacher, and the stout, beady-eyed Professor Trellin – Trellheim? – of Ancient Runes, who was _also_ giving him a speculative once-over.

Cursing inwardly at the sheer amount of people that seemed to be watching him play with his Shepherd's Pie, Tobias somehow got down a series of mouthfuls, one after another, trying to focus on inane details like the fine scars around his wrists, and the one shaped like a star on one of his right hand knuckles.

A small commotion caught his eye, and made him regret he'd looked up at all. Laughing uproariously at some thing or the other, way over at the Gryffindor table, were his friends. For a moment, Toby thought he would stand up and walk over – sit down – poke fun at Ron's odd haircut – but no, _no_.

He loosened his grip on his fork and forced down another mouthful, which tasted like so much dirt in his mouth.

_What possessed me to agree to this, anyway? Why did I think I could _do_ this?_

"Meet me in the dungeons tomorrow evening, understand? So I can hear what you think of this place," came Severus' coldly formal tone, as if from very far away. Tobias nodded, trying not to look at Hermione's fond, Ron-oriented smile. They looked over in his direction – he affected a glance at his watch – they were laughing, again. Anger and despair rose in his gut, choking him –

He very deliberately set down his fork, seeking out the sixth years at the Slytherin table with his eyes, almost crying with relief when he saw Draco and his henchmen had just risen from the table.

"Tobias?" Severus' tone was cold, but his eyes – "Is there something – "

"Just some leftovers from International Apparation," Toby managed to say, his tone steady as he took a long drink of water from the goblet by his place. "And that god-awful Energizing muck you gave me, too. Should finally wear off by tomorrow, never fear." Severus nodded dismissively as he stood, only the sharp concern in his eyes betraying his interest in Toby's words. "Good evening, uncle…" Tobias found himself easily giving way to the polite half-nod, half-bow that Severus had demanded he use at appropriate moments, and soon found himself hastening from the Hall, Draco's blond head in sight.

He found himself hard-pressed to keep a straight face as he left – a fact compounded by the further laughter he could hear at the Gryffindor table. For a very horrible moment, he thought they were laughing at him – that they _knew_ –

_Get a _hold_ of yourself, for fucking hell's sake_ –

Closing his eyes momentarily, he called up his Occlumency shield, submerging his tumultuous feelings in a gentle, yet firm swirling of familiar ocean water. Reaching unobtrusively up his sleeve to touch Iona's warm scales helped him relax a little, and the relatively silent journey to the Slytherin common room, made in Draco's wake, was made without him breaking down in any way.

He avoided the curious stares of the few people present in the common room, heading straight for the sixth year boys' dormitory, sighing as he sighted his familiar, thankfully undisturbed belongings. He shucked his shoes, climbing into bed and closing his curtains with a muttered spell so he could undress in peace. He managed the act of changing into his worn pyjama bottoms without incident or further loss of composure, and was soon stroking a now wide-awake Iona, and telling her in bits and pieces about his eventful day.

When she slid away under his pillow to sleep once more, Toby finally put up a Silencing Ward and allowed himself to vent his frustration and despair. He felt absurdly homesick for the familiar, stuffy dungeon, the acerbic banter with his – his uncle, the freedom to do and go where he wanted, and he let the few, hot tears flow without reservation. Because it was his first, frightening night here, and he didn't feel as safe as he'd thought he would, at Hogwarts.

Then he heard the muffled sounds of the other boys entering the room, and hastily dropped the Silencing Ward, as that was really far too suspicious to maintain for no apparent reason. They settled in around him with as much noise as four teenage boys can generate of a Sunday night, and Toby listened tiredly to their chattering and sniping comments without joining in. The lights went out soon after, and it calmed him somewhat – the dungeons at Snape Manor had always been dim, and he'd grown used to it without noticing.

He turned over, closing his eyes in resignation. There was no use in wanting to be elsewhere – this was where he'd have ended up anyway. And, staring at the dark, comforting curtains draped around him, it seemed far less foreboding than before. His long list of tasks seemed, for a moment, like something he _could_ and _would_ complete, or substantially perform.

_I'm at Hogwarts_.

Tobias closed his eyes once more, breathing in the familiar, yet slightly different smell of dormitories and other human beings. And, hearing the shift-shift of Draco Malfoy's tossing in the bed nearby, he felt a grim smile tug at his lips.

_And I am ready._

Because, if he closed his eyes and relaxed, letting go of the vociferous doubts teeming in his system, he was.

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_A/N: Welcome, welcome. How's that for a first chapter, eh? I won't be able to update for at least three or four days, because of numerous projects and tests I need to get through. Be assured, however, that I've got quite a bit of material to play with for the next chapter, which will simply be named _Chapter 2: The First Day._ Reviews are craved, as always.  
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	2. Chapter 2: The First Day

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_A/N: Usual disclaimer applies, as this is certainly very far from JKR's dream for the series. _

_Right, anyway – we saw Tobias go to bed resigned last chapter, and will see him in glorious action the next morning – the morning of _The First Day.

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**Chapter 2: The First Day**

Tobias woke up suddenly, from dreams filled with vague threats and running, as he felt a sharp jolt in his side. Pain lanced through him again, jolting him properly awake. Panicking and reaching for his wand, he came face-to-face with the abnormal sight of a grinning Malfoy.

_I don't _believe_ it – he's here, he's found me_ –

"_Momordi orbis!"_ Tobias found himself half-screaming, not even checking to see if his wand was in his hand – but, as the glowing golden circle expanded rapidly, the expression of pain on Malfoy's face looked far out of place from what he'd – couldn't be –

"Fucking hell – "

"Wha's going on?" Sleepy male teenage voices filled the air, and Tobias suddenly remembered, and, filled with even more sharp fear – _I could have been _expelled_ for killing you, you little_ – he seized the twitching arm-and-wand before him, hauling the stupid bastard through the dark hangings around his bed, trying to stop his shaking, vibrating wand from cutting into Draco's skin.

He couldn't believe he'd _thought_ – that at Hogwarts –

"What the hell was that?" Tobias forced out, still trying to calm himself. His voice came out softer than he was used to, but it must've had some effect, as Draco's eyes widened a little, and he actually stammered out an answer –

"Just waking you up – just – just a joke – "

_A joke. A _joke_, he says – what wouldn't I _give_ to tear him open_ –

"It's done to everybody on their first morning – thought you would've known…" _Thought I would've known, he says – if only I could_ –

Tobias cut off the thought, shoving Draco out, away – if he held him for one more minute, he didn't know what he'd _do_ –

"What the hell was that for?" Draco was indignant now, rising quickly to his feet, and everyone in the dorm, now thoroughly awake, was looking, watching – "We were just trying to make sure you got up on time – "

"My _punctuality_ is not your concern, Draco," Tobias said roughly, blearily shaking his head as he left the enclosed warmth of his bed and duvet, wand in hand. The time – _need to know the time_ – "_Accio clock!"_ – he stabbed it from the air – _right, it's just 7:30_ –

"We do it to _everyone_, Snape," a familiar voice said from two beds away. An equally bleary-looking, half-dressed Blaise Zabini was giving Tobias a calculating look, which, knowing he needed to get down to breakfast at _some_ point, he easily ignored as he gathered the things he'd need. Thanking Merlin that he'd thought to put on a nightshirt at some point last night – no use in scaring everyone with his hideous scars so early in the scheme of things – Toby absently ferreted out his dressing gown, uniform and shower things, casting a rough charm on the bed so it would remake itself. At a twinge of rawness from his right arm, he blearily felt for his wand holster, removing it and strapping it under the baggy sleeve covering his left arm.

"You wear a wand holster – to _bed_?" Toby sought out the speaker – that was that stringy-looking boy who could see…thestrals, was it? The thin, dark boy was looking at him, waiting for – _oh, shite, an answer_ –

"And here I thought we were living in _dark times_," Toby said, tone dripping with the appropriate amount of sarcasm. A movement from nearer by caught his eye – ah, the Ferret. The Fucking Ferret. Toby held tightly onto his composure, remembering what he was supposed to pull off this morning. It'd definitely be easier than he'd thought, what with that snarky little bastard jumping him in bed with a Stinging hex.

_Hell_, Toby thought, a tight smile forming on the inside, _I'm _definitely_ going to enjoy this_.

"As I said, my punctuality's not your concern. _Any_ of your concern," he went on, making sure to let his eyes seek them all out one by one – _the key to threats is to act like you mean them. Right_ – "I'll thank you not to do that again – I don't take kindly to being woken up in that manner." Tobias started for the door, then paused strategically – he had to make this count – "In fact, I'll thank you not to touch me in the mornings. At all."

There – look at them, all watching him warily, as if he was about to strike. Tobias shrugged the thought off – his hand _was_ sort of caressing his wand, but surely he didn't look all that –

Wait – well. By the look Theodore Nott just exchanged with a now fully-dressed Blaise Zabini, he _was_.

_Oh _breathe_, will you, you puffed-up little arse – they'll test you yet_, the rather Severus-like voice sounded irritatingly in his head, and Tobias almost laughed as he reached the door to the showers –

"And what if you're late?"

– and the urge to laugh turned to a bizarre need to observe a Malfoy being strangled to death far too fast for his taste. Toby turned deliberately, trying to keep his small smile steady. Just two words – "Leave me."

_Making everyone watch their step round me in the mornings – check,_ he thought, satisfied, to himself, luxuriating shamelessly in the hot shower. Baths had been all very well in Snape Manor, but sometimes, a fellow wanted to wash his hair without nearly drowning himself, really.

And that was what Toby proceeded to do, Conjuring his familiar, odd Romanian bubbles, and indulging in the hot water for as long as he could safely do it.

He emerged feeling like a new man, and, on finding the dorm empty of its occupants, proceeded to dress as slowly as he liked, knowing he'd have to make up for his lateness at breakfast, which was seeming less and less of a horrifying trial and more like a very very good thing to be doing – no, _eating_, now. Tobias hurriedly dried his hair with a good blast of hot air from his wand, thinking he'd bind it up _after_ he'd gotten some warm toast inside him.

* * *

Dear _Christ_, but Tobias hoped he wasn't lost. Hopefully, this turning would – _oh thank Merlin, the stairs_ –

Tobias heaved his already irritated limbs up the twisted thing, ignoring the alternatively frightened and fascinated looks he got from everyone around him as he pushed his way through the dense crowd of nattering students to the half-empty Great Hall. Navigating the dungeons had only made him colder and hungrier, and he was in no real mood for anything but attacking – what was it today – eggs and sausages, with fervour.

Unfortunately, he had a job to do, and, judging by the way his uncle was glaring at him from the high table, he'd be in some serious trouble if he didn't start spreading the rumours immediately.

"And he was just like, 'leave me'," Theodore Nott's low, excited tone reached him, just as he passed him sitting beside an irritated looking sixth year girl – oh, he didn't know her name, that must mean she was the Davis girl, who Harry'd never spoken to –

"Speak of the devil," Draco said, nodding curtly to Crabbe so he shifted his heavy bulk down the bench just enough that Tobias could sit opposite an eager-looking Malfoy. Tobias slid into the seat between the still-sleepy Crabbe and the rather nervous-looking Nott with as much ease as he could manage, not even having to fake the look of boredom on his face. "Like I was saying, Tobias," Draco continued, much against Toby's will, "Is there anything else we ought to know – for our safety?" Crabbe and Goyle leered at him with identical, slightly sleepy grins and some of the other Slytherins nearby paused to look.

"I keep a snake in my bed, Malfoy," came the calm answer. Tobias began to pile food methodically onto his plate as he continued, ignoring the wary looks of shock his sixth year dorm-mates were now giving him - _good_. "Iona doesn't like being touched in the mornings either. Actually," he paused from buttering his toast to give Draco an even look. "I wouldn't touch her at all – very temperamental, still young – she'd probably bite even if I introduced you to her beforehand – "

"You keep a _snake_?" Pansy Parkinson interrupted, now fully vested in the conversation. Tobias looked round to see the eyes of half the table on him – _erm, not so good_ –

"Well, yes, I keep a snake – obvious choice for me, really, a Black Vipertooth. I get along with most snakes – it's 'in our blood', so far as I know, really – and my uncle needed her venom for something. Before I knew what was happening, Iona was following me all over the place." Toby shrugged fluidly, hoping wildly that he was saying the right thing. "As young as she is, she's _extremely _venomous, and she kept biting people to get to me. I keep her more for the safety of others, if you know what I mean…" _So stay the _fuck_ out of my bed_.

All the sixth years nodded, more out of amazement than anything else, even as Toby – _oh, finally _– began to attack his huge breakfast. Draco Malfoy was the first to recover. He stretched a hand out to Toby's plate in exaggerated admonishment.

"Not so fast – food's not running away…" Toby gave him what had rapidly become his favourite sneer – The Snape Amused. "Honestly, you're eating so fast – you might choke or something – " Tobias snorted, gulping down a piece of sausage. Draco twitched slightly, not escaping his notice.

"Put your wand away, Draco," Toby drawled, malicious amusement pooling in his chest. The blonde boy was so _obviously_ going to try to hex him it was pathetic – "No? _Wingardium leviosa_ – _Accio_ wand – _Stabilis_." In three lazy flicks of his wand, which had appeared obligingly fast in his slim hand, Draco's sleek length of mahogany had soared up from under the table and was now hovering over Toby's head. As Draco's mouth opened up, soundless with surprise, Toby resumed eating, smirking for all he was worth. "_Honestly_, Draco – anyone ever tell you pointing your wand at people during breakfast was bad form? No? So much for that, then – "

"Tobias," a stern, silky tone came from behind Draco. Toby tried not to stiffen in apprehension as everyone within ten metres became silent as Professor Snape loomed over the sixth years. Severus had _told_ him to be obnoxious, just not specified who to be obnoxious _to_. Naturally, to him, that had Draco's disgusting name all over it. He just hoped – "What on earth are you doing with Mr. Malfoy's wand?"

"Teaching Draco some etiquette, sir," came the equally silky and hopefully convincing reply. Severus smiled slightly, and Toby allowed himself a slightly smaller (and rather relieved) smirk, confusing the Slytherins as he continued his much-softened reprimand.

"I see…five points from Slytherin for absolute silliness at the start of the day." Tobias gave a subtle flick, and Draco's wand moved abruptly to hover over his head. He snatched it down, eyes narrowing at Toby, who gave him a calm look in return. "Your timetable, Tobias – see that you aren't late." And a crisp timetable appeared before Toby's rapidly emptying plate, even as Severus turned to leave. "Try not to inhale your meal, Tobias."

"Yes, _sir_."

Snape proceeded to stalk off towards the nearby Hufflepuff table, where he immediately deducted points from a hapless third year that got in his way. Toby, steeling himself for the next endeavour, languidly levitated the timetable in front of him, examining it as he ate.

"Odd, this timetable," he remarked, peering at Monday's lessons. "We seem to have the most important lessons with" his eyes narrowed, mind racing – _I don't think I should be able to pronounce that_ – "Gryffin-ders – what's that about?" He paused to stab another piece of toast. "Are they all hideously smart or something?"

Severus hadn't had to tell him how to get the sixth year Slytherins going on this – that comment was practically too much for a self-respecting Slytherin to pass up –

"God, no," Pansy exclaimed immediately. "Absolute _cretins_, the lot of them." Draco perked up here – and from his significantly stronger aura of arrogance, this was evidently something he thought he was an authority on.

"Cretins is the word, Pansy," he began, shooting sneers toward the table on the opposite side of the Great Hall. "Sometimes I think the Weasel King gets more stupid every day – especially now their pal Potter's busy pushing up daisies somewhere," an evil grin appeared on his face as he continued, "Only thing better than seeing their faces after the news would've been standing there and watching stuck-up bastard catch it."

Red-hot rage flared deep inside Tobias, but somehow he managed to continue speaking over the snickering of most of the sixth years around him. He focused absently on the Davis girl – she was staring into space, picking at her plate –

_Calm down, Toby – just get it out, you've got to do this_ –

"Really?" Tobias said, injecting as much boredom into his tone as was humanly able, despite the boiling anger within him. "The only death I understand was _worth_ seeing that evening was that of that DADA teacher of yours, I think," he paused as most of the snickering faces turned to him. It wasn't so hard now – this was just maligning Veron, and he could do that _any_ day – "I heard _someone_ opened up all his veins, somehow." He paused again, letting the information sink in, even as his inner anger slowly gave way to grim satisfaction as the grisly scene came to mind. "Must've been _quite_ a sight…I wonder how you _do_ something like that, you know…"

_I know_, the vicious, murderous part of him said. _I could show you, Draco – run a little _test_ on you_ –

"Veron's not dead," Draco was saying slowly.

"Yeah, he's on extended leave or something," Blaise Zabini added, avid curiosity on his face. Toby snorted, shoving aside the guilt that blossomed briefly in him at the sheer amount of enjoyment he was beginning to get from this. Severus had commanded he spread rumours, and he _would_.

Especially for _Veron_ –

"On leave – is _that_ what they call it?" he said slowly, shrugging, an odd smirk rising involuntarily to his mouth. "They don't tell you much, do they?"

"Are you serious, Tobias?" Pansy faltered, reddening slightly. "Dumbledore would've told everyone, wouldn't he – that old Muggle-lover doesn't know anything about discretion – " Toby struggled not to say that the old _Muggle-lover_ had purposely _not_ informed the school, so Tobias could garner some influence bandying what was essentially the little-known truth about. He kept back a smile, wiping his mouth to disguise the twitching of his lips – Dumbledore could probably out-Slytherin the whole lot of these idiots at the table on a bad day. The man was positively –

"How do _you_ know, anyway?" Draco added, turning an avid look on Toby as he wiped his mouth and began perusing his timetable again, this time as it lay on the table beside his plate.

Finally, the first _important_ question.

"I'd say either _Dumbledore_ knows more about discretion than you think – Pansy, is it…? Or he doesn't know…" He looked round at them. "How I know? _Obviously_, my uncle told me…he wasn't too upset about it, either…" Toby smirked again. "I think he was actually a little _too_ pleased, if you know what I mean…Anyway, Veron's dead. Who's his replacement?" He knew very well who the new DADA teacher was, had known before almost anyone else, but this next part was important too –

"Your uncle, for about a week and a half," Blaise offered, looking pensive, "then that woman next to the half-giant at the table." Toby looked, truly curious. He'd heard most of the woman's history, and more than he cared to hear about her daughter's various bad points, all from Severus. And there – a slim, forbidding-looking woman with iron grey hair was chatting absently with a nervous-looking Hagrid. "Professor Vadim, or some other European – "

"Vadim?" Toby cut in, forcing himself to look excited. "_Zaharia_ Vadim, by any chance…?"

"Something like that," Blaise finished, with a wary look. "You've heard of her?" Toby's eyes widened.

"Bloody hell," he said, purposely injecting his voice with a tone of awe – "– Zaharia Vadim – her mother, her mother's brother and father duelled Grindelwald once, and helped drive him out of Romania together – her mum's brother copped it, of course, but _still_," he gave the grim lady a respectful look, shaking his head. "A Vadim at _Hogwarts_ – wonder what Dumbledore had to sell _her_ to bring her here…"

"Her _parents_ duelled Grindelwald?" Theodore Nott whistled, apparently forgetting his nerves. "No wonder she's so grim – probably cursed _her_ into the bargain somehow. She's bloody strict – doesn't favour _anyone_ at all, and she works everyone really hard." Theodore shrugged, a sneer coming to his face. "About time, really – Veron was a bloody joke, fawning all over Potter half the time and making him demonstrate _everything_ the other half."

_Oh, Theo_, Toby said to himself, fighting to keep his eyes on the timetable, _you don't know the _half_ of it_ –

"If I didn't know better, I'd've said he had a bit of a _thing_ for Potter, the stupid bastard – " Nearly everyone in hearing laughed out loud, indicating that this was a joke of Draco's that they all liked. Tobias joined in, not caring that his own laughter carried a sinister tone – they could make whatever the fuck they wanted of that, as long as he got to relive the images of Veron _copping it_ as many times as he liked, the fat bastard.

"Really, Draco?" he managed to get out, lips twisting oddly. "How…how…" He knew his laughter was strange, because everyone else's had died down, and they were all looking at him. "How simply _tragic_," he finished, now tearing the last piece of toast on the platter beside him into squares.

_It was over so damn quickly_ –

"What do you mean, tragic?" Zabini asked haltingly. Toby looked up from his breakfast – this was better than easy, it was like sucking your thumb blindfolded –

"Well," he offered with a sly smile, "it was Potter that did the bleeding for him – opened his veins, and whatnot." He shook his head, pocketing his timetable and pushing his chair back from the table. "Severu - _Professor Snape_, I should say – told me _Golden Boy_ stood there and watched him bleed to death. Now, to be completely honest, how a paragon like _him_ did it is practically beyond me – "

_Not as beyond me as you _thought_, eh, Romulus_ –

"Imperius?" offered Nott from beside him, eyes wide, his smile now completely disappeared. Toby shrugged.

"Who knows," Tobias started to rise, glancing at the slightly uncomfortable black watch on his right wrist. "We've got Potions now, I think…" The rest of the Slytherin sixth years numbly followed suit, a dumbfounded Draco Malfoy leading the way back into the dungeons. Toby, well settled into his spiel now, continued to speculate thoughtfully on just _how_ the whole gruesome event might've happened, laughing softly at one or two suggestions from Theodore Nott, who, surprisingly, hung back to walk beside him. By the time they'd reached Snape's classroom, he and Theodore lagged behind, chuckling at a joke 'Theo' had just made.

Toby hoped he looked relaxed. In truth, he was anything _but_, and just hoped he would be able to keep his mouth shut – Severus had always said he had a tendency to talk himself out of a good lie. So though Blaise Zabini, perhaps seeing that Theodore was still unharmed by the strange new Slytherin (Toby couldn't help chuckling a little ruefully at that – if only they _knew_), manoeuvred his way to the other side of Tobias' lanky frame, his first contribution to the conversation unfortunately being a healthily embellished description of 'Paragon Potter' and his Potions accidents. For a few moments, it was all Toby could do to keep still and keep his face interested – he hadn't come this far to flub it all because he couldn't take an insult or thirty-six, after all – but soon he found himself laughing at the outrageous manner Blaise described them.

For one thing, that Harry Potter sounded like a whole new, different person, viewed from the eyes of the slightly bitter Blaise and Theo – complete with foolishly clingy (and mostly brainless-seeming) friends and no concept of how to keep mum. Tobias could not help cringing half in anger and half in sympathy for this caricature of his old self, and the laughter came easier than he'd have thought it would.

Consequently, the Gryffindors already present at the dungeon door stared as Toby laughed hard along with the two mischievous, definitely spiteful boys, and felt oddly shielded from Ron's shuttered look of infinite prejudice and Hermione's assessing, judging glance. _Thank Merlin – I don't think this'll be as hard as I thought, now_…

The tension as the two groups of students entered the dank classroom was almost palpable, but Toby made sure it had no visible effect on him as he forced himself to look round at the class and wonder half-aloud why everyone was so _silent_. It produced a few titters from the Slytherin side of the dungeon, and glares from most of the Gryffindors. Thinking he might as well push his luck, he finally got himself to nudge Theodore and ask gamely for the names of the other 'unknown' students in the class, who were still glaring at him. He wasn't surprised when Draco Malfoy sniffed and sneered aloud at Ron and Hermione's names, saying that they were "Golden Boy's old lackeys", but _was_ surprised when he added nothing more, choosing instead to eye them with a look of intense curiosity, thankfully unaware of Toby's sharp green eyes on the back of his head.

_Probably wondering if they know,_ the Severus-like voice mused in his thoughts. Toby really, really hoped so, because it would mean that The Plan, as he chose to call it, was well underway.

So, as Professor Snape swooped into the classroom and shut the door with a bang, Toby smiled carefully to himself, looking away from Malfoy's constantly swivelling head for most of the class, not missing the fact that his uncle noted it too.

The plan _was_ underway.

* * *

"So, you're telling me you have to sit through _two bloody hours_ of – of _that_ – every Monday morning?" Toby was asking disgustedly, as the sleepy Slytherins shuffled out of Professor Binns' utterly boring class. He struggled not to yawn – the class had to have gotten _worse_ since he'd left, he was sure of it. Theodore gave himself a stiff shake before answering slowly.

"Yeah – s'always like that – I don't bother takin' notes anymore – "

Tobias sneered, irritation buzzing at his insides, shooting a parting glance at the door of the classroom, which was still ajar – almost missing the interested glances Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones were giving him.

Somewhere inside, a part of him blanched. _That_ was _definitely_ not on just now – he didn't care how bloody tight his trousers were, or whatever the hell it was, the last thing he needed was someone asking him out, on top of The Plan and trying not to puke in Draco's presence. _And_ trying to stay alive, on top of the whole fucking _thing_ of not being with familiar faces –

"Stupid bastard could probably take the bloodiest year in the history of all England and make it sound like a string of tea parties," he said viciously, finally venting some of his inward turmoil. _What right has that bastard Binns to throttle away one or two hours of my valuable time, anyway?_ Toby thought darkly, even as all the Slytherins around him seemed to snigger as one.

Draco gave him a sharp look, looking a bit miffed at not being the one to say the joke, but Toby honestly couldn't give a flying fuck. He badly needed something active to do, or he'd expire from boredom. "Well, we've got DADA next – should wake us up nicely – " Toby felt Theodore peer briefly over his shoulder at the timetable as he sighed and closed it quickly, hoping he'd not notice just how empty the bottom half of the timetable was –

"You're not doing Ancient Runes, Tobias?" Theodore interjected. "Why not – you look like you could handle it – " Toby shook his head, a rare smile twisting over his features. _Right – another chance to feed the children things they want to know_ –

"Oh no – my adoptive uncle – "

"You've got _two_?" Zabini interjected. Tobias rolled his eyes briefly, continuing, feeling all too aware that most of the other sixth years clustered around him were listening as well.

"Yes, I have _two_ uncles, Blaise – the one I'm talking about is _not_ Sever – Professor Snape – bloody – I'll _never_ get used to that – " He gave his head a vigorous shake, then continued again, inwardly berating himself for _another_ mistake, thankful it was one that would go relatively unnoticed. "Well, my _adoptive_ uncle, Cosmin Snape, once insisted I have a tutor for that. Put me off the subject for life, honestly – the witch that taught me had tits the size of a Quaffle, the voice of a weasel…" the Slytherins started to snicker in earnest, but not before Draco Malfoy could butt in to add his own opinion.

_Oh for god's _sake,_ does he ever shut up_ –

"That's the Weasel King's mother word for word, Tobias – you sure it wasn't her?" A nearby Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, a wispy, haughty-looking blonde, giggled extra heartily at that. Toby, heart burning, continued anyway, much as if he hadn't heard the slight at all.

_Only what he deserves, being ignored_ –

"…and her handwriting was _abysmal_, too…it was all I could do to keep _awake_ in the lessons…" he snorted, stuffing his timetable into one of the more hidden pockets sewn into his robes. "Much like History of Magic, to be honest. Which is _definitely_ for the drop – I'd rather learn History of Magic from that fucking _poltergeist_…" Theodore and Blaise laughed as they turned the corner, coming face to face with the same group of Gryffindors, this time including Neville, Lavender, Seamus and Parvati. They entered the class hastily, only just ahead of the trio of Toby, Theodore and Blaise, who kept on chuckling as they entered the class. Ron shot them a glare, which only made Toby chuckle harder.

It wasn't so much the fact that his last silly statement had been wholeheartedly meant, but that he'd rather laugh than start shouting at him and Hermione, who were giving him cold looks. Or _cry_, even more embarrassing, though that was thankfully less likely –

"What's so funny?" Ron asked belligerently, narrowing his eyes at Toby as he sat down in a seat not far from him. Hermione sighed beside him, shifting into a chair at the same desk as usual, something Tobias had to stop looking at, just so he wouldn't be tempted to go over and –

"Simple, really," he said instead, sneering lightly, "the way you were staring at us – as if laughing in here was some sort of _crime_…" Making an effort to keep his face calm, Toby rolled his eyes, nudging away some of the thick, black hair that was starting to come out of his irritating ponytail over his shoulder. "Honestly, the lot of you act like you're at war in here or something – it's pathetic. And boring," he added, opening his school bag with a negligent flick of his wand, levitating a large, leather-bound book onto his desk as the classroom filled up with Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

_Hope that wasn't pathetic – Ron should go for_ –

"_War – pathetic?"_ Ron forced out, his blue eyes glinting with anger. He sat back in his chair, a shockingly cruel smile on his face. "I bet you've never even seen a _duel_, _Snape_."

Even though Toby _knew_ he was supposed to do this, knew he was supposed to be on bad terms with his old friends, the snide insult still hurt, stupid as it was, especially when he thought of the last real duel he'd fought, his hand tightening on his wand –

The fact that his friends had ignored him for so long –

"How smart," Toby said quietly, feeling blood rushing to his face. "The – the little Gryffindor knows my _name_ – catch me if I swoon, will you, Theo – and, even _better_," he added, his tone now filled with an easily familiar vicious quality, " – he thinks he knows all about _war_. Touching." The Slytherins snickered nastily as they watched Ron's face turned red with anger, ignoring the cold, dangerous undertone Tobias' voice had unwittingly (and perhaps unwisely) taken towards the end – all except for Theodore, who he saw exchange a discreet look with someone he couldn't see behind his back.

Then, before the situation could truly develop into something nasty, the tall, imposing Vadim woman from the Great Hall swept into the room and unhurriedly took a seat at the large desk in front of the room, effectually silencing the snickers as she called the roll in a heavy, measured Slavic accent.

"Good – good – all here – " the slim, severe book in which she had been marking down names disappeared, and she rose to stand before the desk. "Now – as I have been made to understand," her dark, slightly hooded eyes landed on Toby's frame, "there is a new student – nay – an apprentice, in our midst. Please introduce yourself to us, mister – " she paused to look at some invisible note in her hand "Mister Snape."

Tobias, still fuelled by the buried heat of his resentment against his friends, rose easily to his feet and did so defiantly, with the self-assured grace he could muster. Severus had implied this would happen at least once, that he'd be required to explain who he was and what he was doing to an entire class of his former classmates. And, knowing his uncle, the suggestion that he do it a certain, very cavalier way had come attached with the threat of Very Disagreeable Consequences if Severus heard something different had been done.

"Right. My name is Tobias Snape – oh, and it'll just be Tobias, thank you, as I wouldn't know who you were talking to if you just said 'Snape' – and I am the new apprentice to your Potions Master, Professor Snape." Toby paused for breath, eyes roaming the classroom defiantly, because he intended to make this _very_ clear, regardless of whatever Severus wanted – "This does _not_ mean I will become a potions master in his stead or succeed him in _any_ way, of course; just that I'll be hanging around him and a few of the teachers, and trying hard to steal or borrow as many ideas and techniques I'll need in the real world once I'm done with my education." He made to sit down again, but hedged for a minute, knowing it would draw that much more attention if he further embellished his slightly insulting spiel. "Oh, and don't come to me with complaints about Severu –Professor Snape – because I can't, and won't help you there. I…think that's it, Ms. Vadim." He sat down, the woman's eyes boring into him as he did so, her face blank of anything save a restrained curiosity at his knowledge of her title without, seemingly, being told.

"You know my name." It was a statement, not a question, but Tobias answered it with a nod, and more.

"Daughter to Elenuta and Danila Vadim, of Romania…?" The woman smiled slowly, as if she was unused to the action. Tobias could feel most of the class staring at him – Hermione the most of all.

It pleased him, perversely, that he appeared to know more than her, just once in his entire fucking life –

"You say the name of my mother first. Why is that?" _Right, don't screw this up _–

"She convinced your father and her brother to fight, and immediately," Tobias explained, settling back in his chair, the action as easy as he could make it. "They did most of the fighting, of course, but without her, they would have been too late. Or, at least, that is how the story is told in Danislak, where I come from." The eyes of Ms. Vadim went unfocused for a moment, as if she was looking back to that very day – perfect.

"True…true. But that is a long story for another day. You will come to hear it sometime, no?" Tobias gave a slight nod, which seemed to please her. She leaned forward, her dark eyes boring uncomfortably into him. "How are…your shields, Mr. Snape?"

"I know the basic forms – _Protego_ and its higher variants, for instance," Tobias began cautiously, finally feeling the stirrings of interest. "Then I know a few others – the Wall Charm, and –"

"The Wall Charm? Excellent – you will demonstrate today, Tobias. Up you come…" She waved her long, slender wand, and the large teacher's desk disappeared, leaving a smallish raised duelling platform in its place. Toby advanced on the platform apprehensively – he knew his bloody Wall Charm was up to standard, but against a Spellweaver, that could mean anything, or nothing. The stories of them that he'd found in the old Romanian books didn't help his niggling sense of worry any, either. "I cast simple spells first – warm you up – and then, when the bell sounds, you will need your Wall Charm, Mr. Snape." The woman drew herself up, wand pointed straight out at him. "I begin. Watch closely, everyone."

"_Impedimenta!_" Toby felt the surge of the Impediment Jinx hurtle toward him from the Professor, and side-stepped it, sending off a Jelly-Legs Jinx in reply, having to actually stop himself from using a more dangerous – "_Expelliarmus!_" – _Christ this is boring_ –

"_Batteo!_" _Easy on the flick, direct wrist motion, and –_ the tight low-grade, poorly focused Bludgeoning Curse hit the far wall of the classroom with a satisfying _whump_, and then Mrs. Vadim narrowed her eyes and began to fire off nastier jinxes and sparsely focused Bludgeoning Curses in return, and this was better, because he was actually forced to pay attention – all while using the flashiest jinxes he knew, for a show of strength –

_Clang!_ The bell had just – _wait, mind that Stinging_ –

"_Stupefy!"_ He barely heard the Professor's low hissed addition to the hard Stinging Hex already winging his way, but dear _Merlin_ the size of that thing – _'you will need your Wall Charm'_ _indeed_ –

"_Fingere Vallum!_" Tobias ordered, trying hard to keep from darting out of the way, as would be more prudent and far less tiring, because this was a demonstration. It told on him, and he dropped the shimmering golden wall faster, just so he could – "_Stupefy!_"

The teacher huffed, easily blocking his attack, and sent off two curses at him, one of them another Stunner, and the other a curse most of the class could evidently not recognise, but left Toby's stomach lurching unpleasantly in his torso – if that _hit him_ –

"_Fingere vallum! Fingere valli_ – " God, he hoped his plan didn't fuck him over – _concentrate_ –

After raising three of the golden walls in quick succession, Toby darted round them so he could send back an almost invisible stream of arcing peach light towards Ms. Vadim, who blinked at the odd method of attack.

"_Integumentum vis!_" she cried, waving her wand in a much more graceful arc than Toby had ever seen Severus do, her concentration entirely on the arcing peach of the nearly harmless modified Jelly-Legs he'd sent her way.

Well, _she_ didn't know that, did she?

"_Stupefy!_" Merlin that was beautiful to do – she'd barely even seen his Stunner streaking for her, and then the blue of the Shield of Power had faded and even from here he could see her eyes widening, and _bloody hell that's far too _fast_ to raise a_ –

He didn't even _hear_ the incantation for the Wall Charm that almost _cracked_ into place before her, but he definitely heard and saw the impact of his Stunner, which sent red sparks dancing off her Charm – that was good, he'd only ever gotten –

_Clang! Clang!_

And the duel was suddenly, eye-blinkingly over, and he was really starting to feel afraid of the tough old woman before him, who was panting slightly with exertion and – and _grinning_ – and he'd sent off his strongest –

"Zat," she said, her Romanian accent coming far thicker due to stress, "waz a _puhfect_ demonstration of ze Vall Charm, class. Take a seat, Tobias." Toby strained to walk nonchalantly back to his seat, only now noticing the incredulous stares of his classmates, something that he chose not to consider just now –

"_Creo papyraceus flabellum_," he got out, around the shortness of breath that had seized him, partly from fear and from the excitement of the duel. A small paper fan appeared obligingly in his hand – a tad more intricate than usual, Merlin knew why – and, as Professor Vadim approached him again, he forced himself to stand and repeat the incantation, handing it to her with a small inclination of the head. Only polite, and, from her sly grin and immediate use of her far more delicate fan, she was pleased by it. Tobias battled the urge to flop into his seat and sigh in relief – _only thing worse than having to duel with this frightening old bat every day's being on her bad side_ –

"You all saw vat Tobias did towards ze end, no?" she said brightly, the expression on her face betraying someone that was _definitely_ cut of the same cloth as his fa – uncle – addicted to this, no more, no less. "He tricked his opponent into letting her guard down with a false – _vas_ it false, young man?" Tobias shook his head, taking up his small fan as he regained his seat once more.

"No, Ms. Vadim; it was a Jelly-Legs, only modified to look like a variant of the _second _variant of the _Annelli viris_ curse." Wouldn't be proper not to say, would it, as much as he longed _not_ to. One thing Severus had enjoyed drilling into him was the fact that he didn't protect his best ideas strategy-wise, and it was rather hard to give _this_ one up to a class of people who might, and probably would use it against him.

Then again, if they didn't know what a real _Annelli_ looked like –

"Brilliant," Ms. Vadim promptly surmised, cutting into Toby's slowly forming thoughts of gleeful relief. He inclined his head gracefully once more, shaking irritating tendrils of hair out of his eyes, a small smirk tugging remorselessly at his lips, trying not to hear the hushed giggle from nearby – from a girl, it sounded like – "Now, class – who can tell me what the _Annelli viris_ curse does…?"

_Shite and double shite_. Tobias fought not to scowl. Another advantage gone…

* * *

"That," Theodore Nott's exhausted voice could be heard just outside the DADA classroom, "was _brilliant_." Toby smirked easily as he saw and half-heard the fervent nods and murmurings from the Slytherin sixth years around him – it had been so, in interesting ways. For one thing, Toby had had the absolute _pleasure_ of seeing that Draco wasn't nearly as versed in everything as _he_ was – _score one point for the House of Snape, none for that of the stinking Malfoys_ – and had then had the further pleasure of testing the _Annelli viris_ on him, the _proper_ way.

After eliciting a splendid demonstration of the _Annelli viris_ from Tobias, Zaharia Vadim, seemingly on a whim, paired the wary students up to try the curse out. On the slight, quivering question of Hermione about the ethics of practicing the near-restricted curse, Ms. Vadim had simply scoffed, sending needles of guilt-tinged satisfaction into Toby's heart.

"_Restriction_ – pah! You students need to _know_ these curses, now," the small, slow smile had appeared again. "Even if you cannot cast the curse, practicing it will help you with your Vall Charm – zey are similar to cast, and easier to cast if you sense you are in danger. Besides, it is _traditional _to use the _Annelli_ to train you in the Charm. Tobias," she'd intoned, turning on him almost proudly. "How did _you_ learn ze Wall Charm?" Toby had rather nervously tossed the ever-escaping dark hair out of his face, hoping he wouldn't overplay this.

"My uncle spelled me with the invisible variant of the _Annelli viris_ until I got it right, Ms. Vadim," he said, making sure a touch of embarrassment was evident in his tone, as if he felt _ashamed_ he hadn't gotten it right the first time. He'd _learned_ to be ashamed very quickly, of course, but no one had to know that. Everyone in the classroom blanched – they'd just seen him severely warp and contort a very sturdy wooden chair with a few flicks of his wand, using the spell. Ms. Vadim, however, had smiled even wider.

"You see, class?" Most of them, blanching even further, did not. "Did he tell you _vhy_, Tobias?" That had been the relatively easier part, in his opinion, though it had been executed with no less thought.

"The curse makes you feel helpless, and it's one of the curses that can infiltrate the charm," he said, quietly. "Casting the Wall charm elicits a strong feeling of protection and strength, even when it's weak, and he made sure to tell me that. Eventually, my Wall charm was able to completely stop the effects of the curse." Their professor nodded slowly, turning back to her now thoroughly frightened class.

"Now, class," she said, gesturing to their desks. "Wands out – books away. We shall try this, yes." She looked excited, as had Tobias, when he remembered that she'd have them really practice it at the end of class, and, since Draco carried himself as the undisputed king of the class, he might end up having a go at the blonde's overly handsome pointed fucking face with the sheer destructive power of the _Annelli_. Which was really, really quite all right by him. "First, we shall perfect our _Annelli_, and zen, we shall stop it with the Wall Charm." And, Vanishing the desks, she continued. "Two people to a chair," she'd said, thoughtfully, Vanishing the other half of them as soon as enough students had grudgingly risen from their seats.

The spell, of course, being exceedingly difficult, only Tobias and Draco could really cast it properly by the end of the class, and, leaving the rest of the huffing, puffing students (the spell was extremely draining) to catch their breath, Ms. Vadim beckoned the two boys forward. After asking Draco if he knew his Wall charm – "Yes, Professor Vadim," he'd replied, sullenly – she'd asked Tobias to spell him. After staring (insides singing with fierce satisfaction) at Draco for a few seconds, Tobias had raised his wand, incanting clearly in the silence.

"_Annelli viris!"_ Draco's charm was up in an instant, but _definitely_ not up to speed – the look on his face was strained, just like Toby knew his own had been every time the dreaded spell had been cast on him. He was nevertheless careful to cease the spell as Draco's wall collapsed, so it wouldn't look odd. Toby, relishing every word, had boredly informed Draco that his Charm needed strengthening, been given the dismissive go-ahead to use the _Annelli_ at full power, and had 'grudgingly' obeyed.

In short, Toby had had a lot of fun.

"_And zat is exactly what you must not do, Mr. Snape," Ms. Vadim said fiercely. "Put strength into your curse – it will strengthen him. Again!"_

It was all Toby had been able to do not to burst into manic laughter as he felt the fear seeping off of Draco, the starkness of the realisation in his eyes when he sensed some of the amusement on Tobias' part.

Because he _had_ sensed it – even now, he was scowling to himself, ignored by the other nattering sixth years that were asking Toby where he'd learnt to duel, and giving Tobias sly side looks every so often when he thought the dark teen wasn't looking.

Tobias, guiltily remembering that this was _not_ how things were essentially supposed to play out from the get-go, sternly reminded himself that alienating Draco was to be _left alone_ until at least a term into his stay, if the whole gigantic ruse worked for that long. It was with this in mind that he relented easily to the requests of his highly interested new peers, launching into a carefully edited version of what had really happened.

Severus had drilled _that_ into him as well – that the use the truth, the half-truth and the quarter-of-a-millionth truth was most judicious, as it held up under Veritaserum the best, and slips of the tongue were defended far easier.

"My uncle – the one that took me in, mind – he trained me a lot. Wasn't a picnic – jinxes at breakfast, hexes at lunch, and so on: he left me to find the antidotes and counters on my own. He didn't like me much, as well, so it was pretty brutal. I've still got scars…" _from exactly what and where, none of you have any right to know, least of all _you_, Draco. So you needn't scowl at me as if I'm just holding you up from going to lunch when you've got a perfectly unharmed will and legs of your own_. "Seve – _Professor Snape_ trained me as well. Stopped about a week before we got here, so I could heal in time for DADA, or so he said." Toby let his most handsome smile off, just for a moment. "That's it, really."

"Wow," Pansy breathed, to the fervent nods and shining eyes of the girls. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini nodded as well. Draco sneered.

"So where are these scars of yours, then?" he asked, as mockingly as possible. Tobias smirked, not going for the bait.

"Nowhere I show to the public, some of them," he said easily, ignoring the sly look Pansy and Daphne shared, because – eurgh. Just eurgh – no _way_ was any of these girls touching him in _any_ relation to his – right. "But there's one here – " _Time to unveil The Scar_ – he shuffled his bag onto his right shoulder, pulling up the sleeve of his robe in a fluid move, to reveal a jagged, raw scar that glared on the back of his upper arm and shoulder, one that he'd become familiar with. So it wasn't a surprise that none of the Slytherins gasped, but it _was_ slightly startling that the sharp intakes of breath could be heard around him, as they also – _shite, wasn't supposed to show that_ – noticed a faint crisscross of razor-thin lines that ran across the inside of his upper arm as well. Draco gulped slightly. Toby let fall his sleeve, ignoring the further looks of slightly morbid fascination the Slytherin girls gave him, cursing himself internally – _you bloody _idiot_, no one was supposed to see the finer ones, they can work it out, they'll know, they'll find out_ – then swiftly checked his watch. "How long does lunch go on?"

"About an hour or so," Blaise offered, blinking hard. Tobias cursed himself again – none of the girls seemed to see more than the fine, odd lines, but there was a look of dreaded recognition in the eyes of the male Slytherins, especially Draco. Tobias pulled his dark hair from its ponytail, running his long fingers through it as he paused, forcing his mind away from the thought of where and from whom Draco had likely heard of the Blood-Boiling Curse.

"I'll just run along and check on Iona, then – wouldn't want her missing me too much at first…"

"You mean – your snake?" Pansy said, eyes widening further. Tobias smirked at her, and was gone with a nod.

His back prickled with the (possibly awed and more likely sceptical) stares of the Slytherins as he headed for the nearest staircase, intent on taking a rather significant detour to his uncle's dungeons before returning to his dormitory to truly check on Iona. Merlin knew he didn't have time to dawdle while the little snake grew more irritated and hungry by the minute, so he'd make the visit as quick as he could.

Or he'd _try_ to – Severus had a way of turning a simple inquiry into a lecture or argument of far-reaching proportions, usually based on Tobias' flaws and overall uselessness at life. Tobias sighed to himself – he'd chance that anyway, being tired and not a little apprehensive that he'd screwed something up somewhere along the way.

* * *

"Severus."

"Tobias. Sit down." 'Tobias' declined politely, eyes locking amusedly with his uncle, inwardly feeling himself relax like he had not done since he'd exchanged these slightly familiar dungeons for the Slytherin dormitory a night ago.

"Heard any rumours about me yet?"

"Not as such." A chuckle escaped Toby against his own will – that was Severus, wasn't it? Pessimistic even when he didn't really mean it.

"You will, soon enough." He paused for a moment. "Something about my scars, I think – and about me being reared by my _hated_ uncle to be something of a Junior Death Eater, I suppose, as I'm so bloody good at Defence." Severus surprisingly followed his nephew's example, chuckling lightly.

"No doubt Zaharia Vadim will come raving to me about your progress?"

"I hope so – even conjured a fucking fan for her in class today, smarmy as you like, to get on her good side. She scares me a bit, to be honest – wouldn't want to be on her bad side if I didn't need to be on good terms with her anyway," Toby said, peering over at Severus' desk full of messy, haphazard piles of parchment, miscellaneous jars of acidic ingredients, and – oddly, a paper fan. "Who'd you make this for, her daughter?" Even more oddly, Severus' face momentarily darkened with some kind of embarrassment as he coolly _Accio-ed_ it from Toby's easy grip, tapping it so it dived straight into the fire inside his office.

"Nothing of the sort – confiscated it from some hapless lovesick fool earlier today. Thankfully it stopped singing by the end of that torturous class – " Tobias nodded absently, still examining his fa – uncle's face for clues to his odd flash of embarrassment. Perhaps it reminded him of something else entirely – like Li – _no, not that, not here_ – or, even more plausible, somehow inadvertently hit the nail on the head…?

"Machinations do not suit you before lunch, Tobias," Severus remarked calmly, seemingly not needing to look up to sense Toby's roll of the eyes. "And stop that this instant – you are not required here until after lunch anyway. Unless there is something further you wish to – "

"Oh yeah – I used the _Annelli viris_ on Malfoy in class today – a bit overenthusiastically, but I can fix that – and I incanted a small Ring of Pain in the dorm this morning." His uncle, who did not flinch at the name of the first spell, spluttered at the mention of the second.

"_What?"_ Tobias' face darkened.

"Slimy little bugger woke me up with a curse. It was an automatic reaction – and one I'm thankful for. Seeing that _face_ hovering over me in the morning, I ask you…Be glad I didn't use anything stronger." Severus sighed, flexing his quill hand momentarily as he ventured a further statement in a noticeably neutral tone of voice.

"I suppose you still wish to kill his…?" Tobias snorted, smiling coldly, hate boiling up frighteningly fast within him. His uncle sighed again. "Try not to damage him _too_ much, Toby – Tobias," he corrected, at the dark look sent his way "Draco is not at fault for what his father did to you – remember that." Tobias snorted again, turning away, trying not to grit his teeth too hard.

"You sound like _Dumbledore_, honestly. Don't get your knickers in a twist, Severus – you won't be finding Draco kicking in a pool of his own blood any time soon. A large pool, of course, by _my _standards, but still. I'll be good – I'll keep my murderous impulses to myself, and that…" He looked at his watch. "Best be off, then – need to get to lunch." Tobias paused before the door, his dark eyes flicking to those of his uncle. "Friday, at the same time, then?"

"When you feel you've gauged the feeling of the house, yes. Otherwise, I've no need or desire to listen to your whingeing – our lessons will be strictly that, and nothing else, understand?" Toby nodded easily and turned away, and felt his uncle watch him leave as silently as he came.

Later on, on returning to lunch in a panic of lateness and the acute feeling of impending discovery, he would reflect that Severus had neither censured him for showing too many of his scars (not that he'd been all that specific) or for letting his hatred for Lucius influence his behaviour toward Draco.

Tobias would then slow down, as he did every other time the panic came upon him again. Because, if Severus wasn't yelling at him for being an utter fool and making frantic plans to whisk him back to Snape Manor, he must be doing _something_ right.

* * *

_A/N: Indeed, yeah. This _is_ long, eh? But, trust me, it could've been longer, I tell you – I took out a whole little exchange between Harry and Draco in the class over the Manipulation Charm Harry was gleefully using on him._

_Right – I apologise in retrospect for flubbed names, false Romanian village names and other little mistakes – I've been editing this chapter for a while, trying to get it all shipshape and in Harry's POV, as it was rather fragmentedly done before._

_And, about Professor (Zaharia) Vadim's accent – it pops up in odd places, yeah, and I sorta did that on purpose. As anyone with an accent knows, it's hard to control where and when it sort of slips into your speech. Sometimes, like a few people I know, you just gain a few habits of pronouncing something in a particular way._

_Sometimes, your command of the language fluctuates oddly, and you mispronounce something in passing without knowing._

_By the way, review responses are in my livejournal (click on my homepage link on my FF. net profile), as always. You'll also find a little speculation about yet another (yeah) new idea that's kind of crept into my brain. Oh, and the next chapter's working title is simply _Happenings_, and I've no idea what kind of animal it is, in relation to this one._

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	3. Chapter 3: Happenings

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_A/N: I am making no profit from this, and I do not intend any copyright infringement. JKR owns everything you don't recognise, blah blah, etc._

_Welcome, guys! Hopefully (very hopefully), I'll be able to post this before the move and the subsequent holiday I'll be having with my anti-Potter family. If not, well – you'll probably get the next chapter as well, at the same time._

_NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Well, I obviously didn't, did I? Ah well. This one has been long in the coming. If any of you know or know of junediamenti on LJ, be sure to thank her for this chapter – her essay on WiPs really helped to get me started again, I can tell you._

_In this chapter, Tobias is reminded of his true purpose at Hogwarts. Oh, and warnings – sexual and wanking references ahoy._

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**Chapter 3: Happenings**

Two weeks into the Summer term, Tobias came to a startling realisation – he had settled, against all odds, into life in Slytherin. The thought particularly struck him this morning as he felt the soothing tendrils of sleep leave his body, leaving him drowsy and somehow sated –

And then the headache started again, and he felt the first part of his morning cheer dissolve away. Clenching his teeth, he turned over, beating viciously at his pillow. He'd taken the last full dose of the _Oppilavi_ potion, what – five, six days ago? The slight, disturbing pressure at the back of his head had begun then, but he'd refused to admit his insecurity with the established plan to gradually stop taking the mind-blocking potion – Severus simply could not make it now or continue to do so forever without bringing undue scrutiny to all his actions, and Tobias certainly could not take it forever.

Tobias scowled sourly into his pillow. He'd not taken into account the return of the fleeting, ominous dreams, or the persistent, dull headaches that took hold of his head at least half of the time he was awake. It was bearable, only just, and yet Severus had assured him it would dull with time. And if anyone knew about constantly keeping up defences, it was his uncle.

But that wasn't what bothered Toby so much about the whole thing – the pain wasn't life-altering or brain-function-stopping. What really got to him was the return of that odd, fragmented feeling. It meant Voldemort was back in his head – back in the picture. That Toby would have to exercise even greater caution with his thoughts.

That he was no longer free.

Sighing heavily, Toby rolled over so he could see the dim wood of the ceiling above him. He missed the boring, dreary simplicity of Snape Manor so _much_ – missed the freedom of thought and expression like it was part of his skin. Being in Slytherin was not as hard as he'd thought it'd be – what with all the careful insinuation and set goals he could focus on, it now felt more like a game or an extremely involving school project than anything else. But with the _Oppilavi_ potion fading slowly from his life – he was only taking one-fifths of a dose, now – the game was becoming very daunting and very serious indeed.

Toby closed his eyes. Perhaps he'd been wrong about what the worst thing in his life right now _really_ was. What seemed, more and more, to take the cake was that he couldn't really feel _safe_ in his uncle's office any more. Talking to Severus, now, was becoming increasingly part of the whole complex little act they were trying to pull off, and less of a cathartic, frantic sort of melee that left Toby feeling truly – he grimaced to himself embarrassedly – argued-out.

_Aruged-out, indeed – only a Snape_ –

_Master, welcome_. A dry hiss interrupted his half-gloomy, half-joking introspection, emanating from somewhere under the covers to his left. Warm scales slithered a little heavily across the skin of his lower arms, and Iona poked her pretty black head from underneath his duvet, in what had quickly become her favourite region – his left armpit. Toby couldn't help smiling as he struggled to sit up and haul her now not-so-little body into his lap. She'd always greeted him like this whenever he woke up – some sort of snake thing –

And, looking downwards at Iona's supposed resting place, his small smile of fondness turned rapidly to one of embarrassment, because –

Tobias cleared his thoughts. Wood. Morning wood – _go onto my arm, Iona. There you go – left one, that's it_ –

_Christ but it's been a while since _this_ happened_, he thought furiously, fighting a hot blush as Iona gratefully wound her heavier body up his left arm. It felt a bit stupid not – well – sharing the idea of this with her in some way, as she _was_ his familiar, and –

No bloody _way._ No bloody way he was answering blunt snakelike questions about his half-hard 'lump', not now, not this morning. Iona continued to hiss her sleepy gratitude, nudging her head uncomfortably hard into his left armpit, as usual. It would just – just be so damn _embarrassing_, telling her he had 'little problems' in the morning (_well, not so little_) nowadays. Warning her to keep her inquisitive tongue to herself –

Ugh. Just – _ugh_. Never mind the fact that his stupid cock was hardening because of some unheard-of parity that related having Iona licking him (God, the idea made him _cringe_) and having someone else's pink little tongue down there, along with a pink mouth, freckly little breasts bobbing prettily as her head bobbed up and down, red hair flying loose of that damned ponytail, and –

_Stop that_, he told himself automatically, shifting his fingers out of his pyjama bottoms. Half-glaring down at his lump – which seemed to have doubled in size, due to his traitorous brain's little journey into an imaginary land where Ginny was right here in his bed, slurping expertly at him, brown eyes brimming with lust, telling him he had to be quiet, because she'd taken down the Silencing Charm, and couldn't stay long, and was gulping him down greedily, and – _get a hold of it – of your co – your _self_, damnit_. _Cast a bloody Silencing Spell, at least, you horny git_ –

"_Deprimo clamor_," Tobias whispered hastily, thighs trembling excitedly. This, within the Slytherin hangings, in the Slytherin boys dorms, just felt so _illicit_ – _Iona?_

_I want to sleep. If you are bent on scratching yourself, please put me in my basket_, she retorted sleepily, making Toby burn in embarrassment – that was pretty close to what he was doing, scratching a veritable _itch_ –

It took far less time than Toby thought it would to carefully stash her away in the basket under his bed, reinforcing the Warming Charm when she complained loudly. And then he was back in the warm green nest of blankets, tugging down his pyjama bottoms and exposing himself, and feeling unspeakably dirty about the whole thing as he constructed a foolishly elaborate fantasy of Ginny, Ginny's red hair, Ginny's freckled body, counting freckles, having her count his scars with her tongue, and – very suddenly – curly hair bobbing above his hard prick, and – "_Oh_ – " – his fist slowed as he milked himself hard, liking the odd way he was now so sensitive down there, and – Merlin that hit the spot – ah – _yes_ –

Hot, slightly clammy with sweat and sticky with his own come, Toby let himself fall back to the bed as he rapidly cleared up the mess. He wasn't sure he wanted to think about that last little vignette, but it was already expressing itself in his muddled, satiated thoughts. Curly, too-curly hair, hiding the girl's face from him – he was sort of twitching again thinking about it. But why? And where on earth had his overheated brain concocted _that_ fantasy, anyway? Ginny's inaccessible, untouchable pinkness was usually enough.

Then, as Tobias heard Blaise's shrilly alarm come to life, he connected it. Slytherin – the mysterious girl within his hangings, sucking (he blushed) him off, hard, while everyone was asleep. It sort of fit in with the dirty things he'd had chasing themselves within his mind, especially the (he blushed again) scenario with Ginny. Toby rolled his eyes at himself.

_So I like mystery_, he thought, carefully putting away his spent – but oddly interested – prick before readying his Morning Scowl. _So what? I'm overanalysing, like Severus does_.

And with that thought came the utterly hilarious image of his visibly stiff, uncomfortable uncle trying to inquire into his sex life. Or, even more hilarious, Severus telling him awkwardly to _feel free with himself_ again, despite the awful experiences at the hand of – _right, no murderous impulses in the mornings_ –

With that, he forcibly forgot the mystery curls and the mystery girl attached to them, and ducked out of the curtains surrounding his bed, pausing for a moment to retrieve an awakened Iona. Once her weight had begun that odd disappearing thing – Dumbledore had said sometime in the Manor that some strongly bonded familiars had that ability – Toby got out of bed. He had some male Slytherins to unnerve this morning – they'd been getting awfully complacent with his personality, hadn't they?

It helped, of course, that Iona had sworn him to give her another shower with him, after the first one he'd taken with her a week or so ago, thoroughly frightening his dorm mates. And it was even more amusing to see the panic in their eyes as Draco almost plaintively voiced that he'd thought the first shower was a one-time thing. Toby answered him easily. Even _happily_ –

"She likes showers," he said, shrugging off the towel inside the cubicle and sending it over to his usual hook on the opposite wall with a flick and swish. "She gets a bit restless when she doesn't get one in a while, no idea why…"

Toby fought back a smile, now, as he entered the shower room only to hear the sound of what was unmistakably a frightened yelp. From who, he did not know – but it certainly made up for the dulling headache that was plaguing him.

Perhaps today wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Two hours later and thirty minutes into a Transfiguration class, Toby was ready to rescind, curse and otherwise utterly reject that statement as Professor McGonagall continued her stern, hard-faced lecture on Animagus-related spells. He'd raced down to the dorms to check on Iona on a whim and been delayed by a stammering Hannah Abbott on his way up asking, of all the _things_, what his favourite drink was. He'd been too stunned to reply properly, embarrassment leaking into his face as students passing them simply _stared_, and had volunteered a rude, slightly sneering, meaningless comment in reply, hurrying away as soon as he could. It was madness on her part, of course – wholly Dumbledore's fault, for announcing so far ahead of time that the Hogsmeade weekend would be replaced by an early 'Summer Party'. Even now, looking round at the joint class, he could see one or two Ravenclaw girls surreptitiously trying to catch his eye, and Hannah blushed horribly as he accidentally caught her eye. 

Stabbing a bit violently at the parchment before him, he lowered his eyes to his desk, only to be reminded, by a low, snide comment, that Draco Malfoy _was_ really sitting beside him. Tobias closed his eyes briefly, cursing inwardly as he replied to Draco's bald comment about McGonagall with a non-committal sound. He'd managed, only just, to convince himself that Draco wasn't there, but the bastard seemed to feel an urgent need to constantly announce his presence in some way.

Toby sighed lowly to himself, copying down the details of the spell McGonagall was lecturing on – one to search for the form of your Animagus, or something like that. At least he knew he wouldn't be going to any bloody 'Summer Party'. None of the massive, planned Order raids was happening around then, thankfully – Severus had only said there was a possibility of one occurring sometime within a week, but nothing about one happening in three, which was when the stupid Party would take place.

And even if there _was_ some raid happening then, there really had to be some other way of –

"Right, class. I have set pairs for you to work in, and the exercise is within your book, at page 507. When I call out your name and that of your partner, you will find your pairs and begin immediately – "

Tobias sat up slightly, listening out for his name, hoping against hope that he'd not be forced to work with Malfoy, or – he swallowed – even worse, _Ron_. He hadn't had the misfortune in any class so far, for no reason he could think of, and was not keen in the least to sit beside familiar red hair and those freckled hands and not be able to be himself –

"…Greengrass and Nott, Snape and Davis, Malfoy and Zabini. Get to work, immediately." Professor McGonagall's stern mien ensured near-immediate obedience from all of the mixed, sullen class. The sixth years grumbled and murmured around him as they switched places and began to work on the testing process. For a split second, he couldn't even _remember_ Davis was a girl, or that –

_Right, there she is_ – Toby thought absently, then suddenly realised – _Curly hair. Dear _god_ –_

Later, he would remember almost scrambling to his feet to move to the empty place beside her just as she was rising from her table near the back of the class, a worried look on her face. The entire class would remember that he got up suddenly, stretching languidly as he made his way over to the table of the doomed girl, flashing down a quick smile at a comment from Theo as he passed him by.

Of course, Toby was barely aware of what his face was doing, his head was in such a tumult. Embarrassment seemed to be flooding his entire being as he slipped casually into the seat beside Davis, whose first name he suddenly realised he did not know.

"I don't think I've ever spoken to you before," he said almost teasingly, thanking his stars for the special lesson his uncle had given him almost four weeks ago. Speaking Under Duress, it had been called. And that was absolutely appropriate at the moment, for Toby's throat was tight, the scars in the small of his back were itching horribly, and his face felt like it had 'Horny Little Bastard' tattooed across it in fetching red, and –

"Er, no," Curly Hair said quietly, voice low, entire frame practically radiating nervousness. "My name's Tracey. Davis, as you've probably guessed," she continued, meekly stretching out a hand for him to shake, as if he'd eat it or something.

"Interesting," Toby found himself saying, also teasingly, fighting not to stroke her hand. At this rate, he'd be hard again within the hour, because she actually had a nice voice, and the slight accent her words carried didn't help matters either – "Well. Shall we get going?"

Dull green eyes met his and flicked away in a show of nervousness, but even the short, guilt-tinged glimpse into the outwardly meek student's mind was illuminating. Far more calculation under that curly hair than there looked to be on the outside, he was almost sure of it. Then Professor McGonagall was barking at someone nearby, and the need to at least look like they were doing something somehow precipitated a still clearly nervous Tracey into asking him to go first.

Toby smiled, a small, private one he was nearly unaware of, and smoothly extended the invitation back to her, lolling easily back in his chair. He'd never 'gone first' in any introspective activity they'd performed in any class so far, and didn't intend to start –

"_Compertus animagus_…" Tracey's intonation was strong, without hesitation, as she calmly waved the wand in an elaborate pattern that ended up with the business end facing herself. Her eyelids fluttered close to cover almost startled eyes, and she began to slump forward. Tobias, though loathe to touch her because of his growing predicament, caught her around the shoulders without much difficulty, almost not hearing McGonagall's distant-sounding voice in the background.

"…yes, that's it, Miss Brown…you should feel a sinking sensation…please support your partner _properly_, Mr. Goldstein…"

Tracey's breaths in and out were coming more rapidly, her cheeks reddening as if with some invisible effort, and her hair was everywhere – in Tobias' face, floating haphazardly against his neck, just getting in the way of his smelling her sharp scent –

_Wait a bloody minute, you randy _idiot_ –_

Fighting back a blush, Tobias manoeuvred Tracey into leaning somehow against his shoulder, ignoring the puzzled looks they were getting from everyone else, who seemed to be rousing from their magical slumbers rather rapidly. Several girls seemed to sigh, drawing an involuntary scowl to his face as he glanced hastily down at the twitching girl beside him, wondering if she would just wake _up_ and give over torturing him already –

"Good," McGonagall's voice made him start, coming from so close by. "It's been so many years since I've had someone go that deep. Perhaps Miss Davis has found her – "

But no one heard what Miss Davis was likely to find, for she began to stir that very moment, head turning interestingly on Tobias' shoulder and making him stupidly wonder if somehow her lips would come in contact with any of his skin, and – _shut up, just shut up, you_.

Tracey started away from him in the next moment, blinking hard, features oddly hard as she embarrassedly retrieved her wand, which had dropped to the floor just below her desk.

"So, Miss Davis?" McGonagall said, looking oddly excited. "Did you see anything…?" Silence broke into excited whispers as Tracey nodded her head slowly, a dazed sort of blush forming on her cheeks again. "Good – good – meet me after class, will you?" After a hesitant nod from Tracey, the professor flitted over to another pair of students where one was just waking from the slumber, and Tobias' moment had come.

He rubbed ruefully at his neck, half-wishing he would be awake for when Tracey held on to him and half thinking he was really very horny to be going on about some girl's daft hair for so long – "_Compertus animagus_," he said, forestalling his longing as he flicked easily through the wand pattern, now curious as to what he would see –

Darkness hit him abruptly, so that the feeling of his wand in his hand disappeared almost instantaneously, making him panic with no real reason to –

"…I do not _wish_ to hear your plaintive drivel, Wormtail," a high, all-too-familiar voice was saying, through his mouth, horrifyingly – "You will decipher the contents of that book or die. It is really as simple as that." He could almost feel himself standing, and it wasn't right because he was in class and he didn't _want_ this to happen, not now, not – "_Crucio_ – you must learn – "

Darkness seemed to whirl in again, like a heavy, dampening blanket, drowning out the sound of the water of Tobias' frantic Occlumency as he somehow found himself drifting, drifting in a barren, void place that seemed to close in about him, tighter, closer, worse than the cell –

_I've had enough_, he seethed to himself, terror dancing in limbs he could not feel as the walls of the place drew in. _Enough!_

_ENOUGH –_

His eyes opened suddenly, almost blinding him with light as he fought the impulse to pick up his wand and curse everything in sight, to unleash the hot, seething magic within –

"Jaysus, would you calm _down_ – " Tracey's almost desperate voice sounded sharply in his ear just as the feeling of his arms and the arms around him came into being, and he stilled, because he could faintly remember he'd been in a class – some class –

"Mister Snape, control yourself this instant!" _Oh – Transfiguration_… Professor McGonagall's voice truly startled him into lucidity, and he realised dimly that his scar was burning, and realised his hand was moving to where it was supposed to be on his face, and –

"What happened?" Tracey's voice had withdrawn somewhat from its former position almost in his ear, and it was bizarrely comforting to realise her arms were still about him, despite his – his –

_Oh god – if I said anything_ –

"I'm all right," he said thickly, blinking hard, taking deep breaths as quietly as possible, warmth and reasoning flowing back into his brain even as that malevolent section in the back of his mind seethed, fighting against the water of his determined Occlumency.

"Really?" she said again, sounding puzzled and looking very matter-of-fact. "Well, look on the bright side, you didn't scream or anything – I nearly did…"

"Mister Snape, what on earth can you have been thinking?" McGonagall sputtered, coming round to glare directly at him from the side. "I'm sure you performed the wand movements incorrectly, I've never seen such an effect before – "

"Does it work like some sort of trance?" Toby cut in, none too politely, blinking hard against the sharp edges of the headache that was thundering through his head at the moment. "Does it?"

"At this level," McGonagall said, eyes hard, "you should know what spells include – "

"If it does," Toby persisted, rising almost shakily to his feet, face set into a blank, hostile mask as he whisked together his things, "I'll need to go to the hospital wing. I don't do trances, they just don't work for me – "

"_At this level_," McGonagall said, lips dangerously thin, voice low with anger, "you should know what spells include trances, if they affect you so. Perhaps you were distracted?" She shot a cold look in the paling Tracy's direction, and Tobias felt himself heat up with the injustice of the comment, but refused to let anything pass his lips, except –

"If you wish to punish me, Professor, for…forgetting," he inclined his head towards her as insultingly as he knew how, "be kind enough to take it up with my uncle. If you will excuse me." He gave a mocking bow, accompanied by an equally mocking, polite little smile, and swept out of the room with the ease and carriage of a king.

Not more than ten or fifteen paces away, he ducked into an empty classroom and conjured a small glass bottle and began to think as hard as he could of his little experience. Extracting the memory was a relief – as if the water he'd used to fight his way out of the deadly trance had seeped into it, made it more impersonal somehow, and, as always, just before closing the bottle, Tobias could not help debating with himself as to whether Severus was really right about not being able to just – just empty himself of everything, of – of –

He closed it very quickly. He just had to deliver this, then go to the Hospital Wing just in case that – that _cow_ checked, later.

Honestly, right now, he wouldn't put it past her to check such a thing and punish him for it, and wouldn't put it past almost every one of his former professors to do the same. Toby sighed – he supposed it came with the territory of this face, this identity. A year ago he'd have gone round the bend by now, just putting up with the intrigue and suspicion swimming thick in the air around him, but now –

A ghost of a smile flitted across Tobias' face. Now, existing in the fog and shadow of Slytherin and Snape was almost…natural.

Almost.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Toby found himself whistling lowly as he trod the steps of the staircase that led up to the Great Hall. His headache was gone, courtesy some skilful uncle-guilting, and his skin glowed with the aftermath of activity (courtesy of some skilful uncle-baiting and the rather violent results of that skill), and he felt a little more at peace. 

His hair could definitely use a wash, but it didn't really do to worry about his bloody hair getting greasy when he was in such a good mood. Really, it didn't.

Entering the Great Hall just then was like entering a sea of noise and rumour and _where has _he_ been_ and _what has he been doing_ and _why is he so late to lunch_. Every day seemed to get a little worse that way, with Tobias practically able to feel the stares sliding on and off his body, nowadays. But just now he didn't have the heart to feel disgusted or weary or afraid he looked like an idiot swaggering the Snape way over to the Slytherin table to slide into the first empty seat he could find. He just felt alive, aggressively alive, and somehow calm, and a little more hopeful that he hadn't already blown his chance for some shred of normality at Hogwarts just because he hadn't been quick on the uptake in class.

Toby sighed, managing to savour the strangely content emotion for a few minutes until –

_Oh good god, what was I thinking_.

It took a lot of self control, some Toby had never known he _had_, to just reach over Draco's mincing cutlery to grab hold of the potatoes. If he just didn't speak, maybe –

Draco's eyes flashed up and down his upper half even as Tobias favoured him with a slightly-less-mocking-than-usual nod. The blonde's lip curled as he very haughtily, very condescendingly refocused his attention on something else, and – well. Stabbing him with his own knife seemed suddenly to be a very, very good idea.

_Coherence. Calm. Deep – breaths –_

But Tobias could barely stop his teeth from grinding, and the only thing left to do was look up, look away, and oh _god why is Hannah Abbot OPPOSITE ME_ –

Toby blinked, then blinked again, flashing her a nervous half-smile without really meaning to, courtesy his old, highly embarrassed instincts. She blushed. A sort of sputter-cough sounded from his left, from Draco-territory; a cough that paused his fork on the way to his mouth. Would really it be that easy to irritate Draco, just now when Tobias was absolutely bursting to return the favour without causing him grievous bodily harm?

A test was obviously in order, so – he reached for chicken, sighed handsomely, ran his hands through his sleekly sweaty hair, and…hey presto!

_Wow, every girl I can see is actually _looking_ at me. In that way._

Tobias blinked, then affected a flick of his sweaty hair in just the right direction for him to innocuously catch a glimpse of…Draco, who was frowning fit to kill himself.

A grin fought its way onto Toby's face as he dug messily into his potatoes. It just felt – for the first time, it felt like he was in control of the situation. People were staring at him as he obliquely flexed his muscles, gazed broodingly into space and smiled at nothing-that-might-have-been-someone-he-was-and-wasn't-looking-at, but they were damn well looking because he wanted them to. Perhaps this was how that poor bugger of a Lockhart had felt. Perhaps not.

But, as he snatched a second, sideways sort of look in Draco's direction, he could feel hysterical laughter rising up within him. It was really getting to him, it was – the idiot was almost scowling, now, just because he'd flicked his _hair_ over his shoulder.

_Well_, Tobias thought viciously, smiling beatifically at Draco just to see his eyes narrow suspiciously, _back to eating, then_.

A moment later, Theodore Nott had realised he was at the table, and was cunningly manoeuvring him down it, gamely ignoring Draco's glare. Tobias, for his own part, complied fairly quickly, as it was now his firm policy never to spend more time around Draco Malfoy than he absolutely needed to. And as Slytherin's petty politics didn't revolve around Draco entirely, it wasn't as hard to do as he'd thought it would be. For starters, there were Theo and Blaise, and they were surprisingly all right, and –

"Tobias? Hello…?" Toby started as someone's hand landed hesitantly on his shoulder, causing him to twist up and wish he hadn't, even as Theo continued to speak, now a bit impatient. "Could you move down for Tracey sometime in the next hour, mate? And could you _possibly_ try to listen to me when I'm telling you about what you missed in Transfiguration?"

"Possibly," Tobias murmured in reply, fighting for control of his irritatingly responsive hormones as Tracey Davis curly hair and all, sat down beside him. Well, more that she slid into the seat beside him, looking very thin and touchable and her hair sort of –

"Tobias."

"I was trying to remember something," Toby cut in a little hastily. "Right – er, Tracey?" She looked at him, shock clearly coursing through her system. "Just wanted to apologise for that mess in Transfigurations…" Her mouth opened and closed for a moment.

"Oh – er – that's – fine," she said hastily after a moment, as if realising he was actually waiting for a response. "It's not like I'm her favourite student anyway, she usually just ignores me, you know."

"I should think that makes it worse, then," Toby persisted, eyes involuntarily drawn to her throat as she reached past him a little awkwardly to grasp a jug of some sort of juice. "Oh, here, let me – "

"It's fine," she said, confusing him enough as to what precisely was fine that he just tapped the jug gently anyway, making it light enough that she sloshed some onto his plate by mistake. "Oh Merlin, I'm just a mess today – "

"It's fine," Toby said, wryly Vanishing the spoilt food on his plate. "We're equal now, aren't we?"

"When you two are done flirting," Theo cut in, his tone equally wry as Tracey blushed and Tobias thanked his stars that no one could really see his own, "McGonagall set us homework for the next class. She said we were to keep on trying the trance thing – "

"What fun," Toby muttered under his breath, trying to confine his roving eyes to the buttered roll he was now half-heartedly munching on.

" – until we get results," Theo persisted, rolling his eyes.

"Or fall into the same kind of trance that got you," Tracey said, startling Tobias a little as she made an absent gesture in his direction with her fork. "Stupidest homework we've ever gotten, I think."

"So you _are_ hacked off at her," Theo said, affecting a tone of great surprise. She ignored him, cutting determinedly into her chicken as she continued.

"Oh please, it _is_ stupid," she muttered. "Half the class just closed their eyes for five minutes, for Merlin's sake. Only thing that'll come of that homework is us getting a good extra hour of sleep." Theodore Nott laughed out loud, shaking his head when Tracey gave him a slightly disgusted look.

"That's Tracey for you – she'd never call McGonagall a bitch, but she'd call her a useless excuse for an educator – "

"You know," curly hair whipped round to reveal a face that was all angles that Tobias hadn't actually really examined, "I've been meaning to ask you about him," she jerked her head towards the still-chortling Theo. "I can understand you chumming with Blaise, but I really don't see why you put up with Theo. I mean, it must be obvious that people don't really like him much – "

"Oh Tracey, you wound me – "

" – and that he's never ever been cool or approaching it in his life," Tracey finished, now obviously focusing on a grinning Theo.

"He does the dirty work quite admirably," Toby replied, straight-faced even as he sensed Draco drawing closer for some ungodly reason. "He doesn't look it, you know, but he's a lot stronger and a lot less squeamish than Blaise – "

"Unfortunately, I can imagine that quite well," Draco cut in from Tobias' right. "Being a poof requires that you're not too squeamish, I understand. Doesn't it, Theo?"

"Whatever, Draco," Theodore replied, face shutting down almost instantly. "Anyway, Toby, McGonagall said – "

"I almost forgot to ask you, you know," Draco said, interrupting Theo deliberately, "why you sort of…" he mimed Toby's spacing out in a faintly insulting manner, "in Transfig this morning. How come?" Tobias had barely even begun to consider how to reply to such an irritating question without resorting once more to magical violence when he heard a sharp gasp.

"Oh gods, Defence," Tracey muttered, practically throwing down her cutlery as she dug out her schoolbag from below the table. "Come on, Theo, I want a seat in front for a change." Toby's heart squeezed just a little as she gestured impatiently at Theo, who still looked blank and rather angry. It just reminded him of Hermione, somehow, always looking out for him and Ron –

"Save you a seat?" Toby looked up, startled, from his half-eaten roll, and was about to reply to Theo's tentative question when Draco beat him to it.

"Do you really think he wants to sit by you, Theo?" was the easy, slightly mocking answer. Theo coloured slightly, biting his lip in a way that he almost always seemed to do around Draco. "Just push off, for goodness' – "

"On second thought, I'm coming with you," Toby said just as easily, sliding out of his seat with a deliberately swaggering air, running a hand through his hair. "Hold on a minute there, Tracey – " But as he hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and hastened to catch up with a relieved-looking Theo, he realised she was nowhere to be found. "Where did she go?"

"Defence, like she said," Theo replied, after a moment. "She'll save us seats, don't worry." Toby shot a look at the taut face of someone he realised, with a start, that he was starting to think of as a friend, and decided he'd leave it alone for now, for, as odd as the occurrence was, it didn't quite compare to being called a poof very loudly in front of everyone in his house for no other reason than because Draco felt like he was monopolising Toby's conversation. It was a surprise, then, when Theo continued to talk. "So. You said something about dirty work…?"

Toby chanced a look at Theodore and was almost unable to speak at the thinly-veiled emotion on the other boy's face. He rolled his eyes almost immediately, as if irritated at his new friend's forgetfulness.

"You do the tasting, Theo. Of the product," he insisted, on seeing the startled look on his friend's face. "You know, the potion that will enrich us by destroying every Malfoy in existence…?"

Toby tried to assure himself, a minute later, that he wasn't exactly replacing Ron and Hermione. Theodore was different, it was obvious. Just because hearing him laugh at such a daft joke made him feel the same way as he'd used to around his old friends didn't mean anything.

It really didn't.

* * *

As Theo had so confidently intimated, Tracey was in the now rapidly-filling Defence classroom, sitting in the midst of three conspicuously empty spaces in the front of the class and writing something vaguely on a scrap of parchment. Theo and Toby headed straight for her and, settling easily into the two seats of the desk behind her, asked who the third space, the one beside her, was for. 

"Blaise," she replied, giving Theo a look of surprise. "He's usually here by now. Isn't he coming?"

"Didn't see him at lunch, so I wouldn't know," Toby replied, leisurely extracting his slightly battered Defence textbook and thanking his stars that he'd not somehow taken the seat beside Tracey. The state he was so persistently in today, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate. Theo snorted beside him, copying his actions with an air of jerky impatience that Toby tried not to think of as classic Ron.

"You wouldn't know, because you're always late to lunch," his friend scoffed, slamming the heavy textbook onto their desk as Toby pinked slightly. It was all too true, really, he did avoid going to lunch on time.

What was worse, it was his _uncle_'s fault – he'd had the 'art' of making an appearance drilled into him until he felt a little odd arriving to any meal on time.

"It's not my fault that my dear Uncle Snape constantly wants to see me," he retorted defiantly, slotting his book open impatiently as he fidgeted in his seat, then affecting a need to search out the notes of the previous lesson because Ron and Hermione had just come in, arguing fiercely, and he really didn't want to stare – "Really, if I didn't know he had a preference for women, I'd have to think very, very hard about his intentions – "

"So," Tracey interrupted rudely, her half-smile belying the impatience of her tone as she half-turned towards them, "the long and short of it is that you've not seen Blaise, eh?"

"No, I've seen him," Theo insisted, leaning forward slightly to better drive home his point. Or something – "He was really early for lunch, see, and he told me – " Draco Malfoy burst into the class, as loud and obnoxious as usual, and deigned to push roughly past Toby as he strode down the column of desks. Toby shook off the anger almost immediately, wanting to hear what Theo was saying – " – be a bit late for Defence."

"Which is Blaise for, 'I'm going to suck face with Flora Williamson', more or less," Tracey commented with a small grin, turning back to her doodling.

"Wait, wait," Theo insisted, stretching out to tap her on the shoulder. "When did that happen? And _why_?"

"Last night, and because he asked," was the amused reply. "You know how it is with him – "

"Excuse me," a very unwelcome voice said from behind the three chatting Slytherins, cutting into their conversation. "Is this seat taken?" Draco's exaggeratedly polite tone and demeanour seemed to be pitched so as to grate on purpose, and grate it did, because Toby found himself retorting nearly at the same time as Theodore beside him.

"Yes," he snapped, startling inwardly at the vehemence in Theo's tone, which was actually greater than his own. But before he could try to check what the dark-haired, sullen-looking boy beside him was thinking, a very blonde and very annoying _git_ was already setting down his bag by the desk in front of them, and making obvious preparations to sit down.

_Only a Malfoy_, Toby thought tightly, trying not to be shocked at the amount of vicious rage that churned behind that statement for him.

"Why'd you ask if you were going to sit down anyway?" came Tracey's unmistakeably cool question as Draco slid into the seat beside her, just as – _fucking rotten luck_ – Professor Vadim swept into the classroom haphazardly, as always.

"A little thing called courtesy, which our Theo back here might not understand," Draco whispered over-loudly, clearly meaning for 'our Theo' to hear. Even from behind, Toby could tell Tracey was angry – her thin frame stilled slightly, and the small part of her expression that he could see from this angle was very blank, and very cold.

"I still don't know why you're sitting here, Draco," she replied politely. "I suppose we'll have to endure it, won't we, Theo?" And before Draco could voice any sort of response, Professor Vadim had begun to pace the front of the classroom, a stern look on her face.

"Afternoon, class," she began, her cold tone causing the mood of the class to lighten abruptly. She, as Toby had quickly discovered, was always sterner when the material to be covered in her current class would be easier than normal, and almost irritatingly jovial when it was harder. "Today, we will be reviewing the proper use and performance of localised Blasting Curses." The class relaxed further around the tense knot that was the reluctant foursome of Toby, Theo, Tracey and Malfoy, closing books and putting away quills as the professor continued to speak. "Now, if you would pair up…"

* * *

This time, when the Slytherins emerged from the Defence classroom, no one was smiling. Theodore and Draco were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the group, and Tracey lagged behind the most, alternately lighting and dousing her wand, a shuttered look on her face. Blaise, who had finally made it into the class, late as promised, was trying to carry on a stilted conversation with an obviously uncomfortable Daphne Greengrass, and Pansy stuck as close to Draco as possible, darting venomous looks in Toby's direction. 

Toby sighed inwardly. It had been a surprisingly grim class – bad enough that he'd felt uncommonly relieved when Zaharia Vadim had ordered everyone to switch partners, and had headed for the first free girl with a Ravenclaw tie, hoping against hope that no one else would pick him out on his elaborately confused little journey across the classroom. He'd chanced a guilty look back in Draco and Tracey's direction, but the sight of her pale, angry face and Draco's stiff smile had driven him on.

Tobias chanced a look at them now, and was not surprised to see Draco eyeing Tracey unobtrusively. He didn't know why on earth he hadn't seen the odd pattern these last couple of weeks – the odd way Draco seemed to go out of his way to irritate the blonde, awkwardly thin girl, and the way she just seemed to close up around him. Toby sighed, glancing at his watch, adding yet another item to the list of Slytherin Politics: Patterns To Understand. At the very least he'd gotten a breather from the hostile conversation –

"_Mandy Brocklehem?" he stuttered on purpose, noting absently just how large her chest seemed to be. Perfectly sized, really –_

"_Brocklehurst," she corrected, giving him a small smile as he conjured a paper target for her and strung it up on an imaginary hook. "_Flaminis!"

_"No, you've got it all – let me," Toby muttered, wondering how on earth she'd survived the class not knowing the correct way to twist at the end of a blasting sequence. He caught hold of her hand gently, and, as he guided her through the movement, realised just how daft he was being, not using even a shred of what Seve- his uncle had drilled into him over and over again. "And that – there's always a twist, at the end, for proper localisation."_

_"Thanks," Mandy said easily, giving him a slightly bigger smile as she incanted again, the burn of her spell now properly confined to within the large black circle, as was correct. Toby fought down a blush, wondering why he'd chosen to forget just now that girls _did_ find him attractive, and smart girls were just as liable to bend circumstances just to get him to touch them, and it was really quite dangerous for him at the moment, because girls just seemed to make him go all –_

"Toby? Helloooo – "

"What is it?" he snapped in return, only just registering Theo as the interrupter of his internal memory reel as his still-sullen friend of sorts gave him an annoyed look.

"I was just asking – never mind," came the slightly cool answer.

"Come on, Theo," Toby wheedled, almost automatically turning on his charm as he tugged at the other boy's elbow.

"Look, it's really not impor – "

"Tobias?" Mandy's hesitant tone stopped him and Theo in their tracks for a moment. It was enough for her to rush up and give him yet another one of those smiles, look him over and generally make him feel – "Thanks for the help with the Blasting Curse today," she continued, tossing her brown hair over her shoulder. "See you in Potions tomorrow, okay?" She swished off confidently, accompanied by two grinning girls that were obviously her friends, leaving behind her a mildly speculative Toby and a lowly (and rather crudely) whistling Theo.

"You were saying, Theo…?" Theodore shook his head, a wonky smile edging onto his face.

"Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't important enough to compete with _those_ – "

"Don't be disgusting, Theo," came the automatic-sounding reproof from Tracey, who Toby abruptly realised they'd fallen far behind.

"But she was so _obvious_," Theo said eagerly, a wicked gleam in his eye as Tracey gave him an irritated look. "Oh, thank you, dear brave Tobias, for aiding me in revising a spell I've known half my academic life – "

"Thankfully," Toby said, trying hard not to smile, "I've got a meeting with my uncle, so if it's not too much to ask – "

"Another meeting?" Blaise's voice startled them all, coming from behind. "You should call it The Meeting, now – he always seems to have you down his office near the end of the week for your regular interrogation."

"He doesn't interrogate me," Toby said truthfully, smiling at the thought, which was not far from his uncle's behaviour at the end of the first week. "At least, he doesn't do that now."

"I fail to see how he could have kept that on, really," Tracey said, falling properly into step with the three boys. "You don't seem like the person to stand for that for too long, somehow."

"Really? I'm flattered – "

"Oh don't deceive yourself, Tracey," Theodore cut in. "He quite obviously has some sort of special fortifying potion he takes just before each visit – " Toby found himself hard pressed to keep back a laugh as they rounded the corner and headed for the stairs that led to the dungeons.

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea. Merlin knows he can be scary enough sometimes – I'd probably do a really rousing trade if I sold fortifying potions keyed to him, if he wouldn't recognise the effects…"

* * *

"Fortifying potion?" Severus asked quite a few minutes later in the thoroughly soundproofed classroom they were speaking in. "How eminently ridiculous – " 

"Quite obviously not my idea, as I said," Tobias ventured forth, fidgeting slightly with the strap of his schoolbag until his uncle rolled his eyes and nodded wearily at him.

"Oh start talking, you waste of space – "

"Fine," Toby replied, none too offended. His uncle had fallen into a perpetual bad mood once they'd returned to Hogwarts, and the constant insults almost seemed natural. "Well, the list's gotten longer, for one." Severus sighed, rubbing frustratedly at his rather pale temples.

"Do I _have_ to ask which one?" he said lowly, tone wearyingly patient. "Because if I do – "

"The one about Slytherin Politics," Tobias conceded, peering closely at his uncle. "You look tired, have you been – "

"Yes, I have _been_," came the supremely irritated answer, through gritted teeth. "Do go on, so I can actually dream of sleeping within the next month."

"Well, Draco and Tracey Davis – you know, the girl with the really curly hair – they really don't get along, and I've no idea why." Severus favoured him with a pained look that plainly asked if that was a surprise. "Really, you should see them in action – she's really, really frosty when she's angry, and he just seems to perversely push her into it, it's weird, honestly…" Tobias looked up at the older, considerably more tired-looking man, who was now favouring him with an exasperated look worse than any he'd ever seen. "What?"

"I see," his uncle said, after a long pause, "that I made a grave mistake in allowing you to go first. No matter – I won't do it again. Have you already forgotten how serious things were for you this morning, you ignorant, _idiotic_ little – "

"No, I haven't, I've been consciously trying _not_ to remember so that the bloody bastard doesn't have a fucking way into my head! Give me some credit, please – "

" – and all you can worry about is if little Tracey isn't _getting along_ with our mutual friend's little cock-shite of a son, while _I'm_ being tortured at His Royal Bastard's pleasure for information that could kill you," Severus got out between angry, rasping breaths. "Merlin help me, Tobias, but sometimes, I really wonder – "

"You were _what_?" Toby was already on his feet and tuning out his fa – uncle, uncle, bloody _uncle_'s stupid long speech about – oh Merlin – "What did he do? You shouldn't have gone, not in the middle of the bloody week – "

"You didn't care about that five months ago, did you? You know," Severus said dangerously, "that I have a task to perform. You _know_," he spat out, "that if he calls me, I must answer. Now, I put this simple question to you – how likely was it, this morning, that – that the Dark Lord would _not_ call on me, after that highly susceptible vision you shared with him because," his voice got uncomfortably loud, "of your failure to realise that that old biddy of a McGonagall had just asked you to fall into a _trance_ – "

Tobias cringed as his uncle shook, wondering if it was even safe to speak. The dull headache seemed to return with full, guilty force as he really took in Severus' slightly stretched appearance – the very way he held his tall frame just showed something wasn't quite –

"Severus, I'm – "

"Don't apologise, you fool," came the muttered interruption. Severus slumped back into his chair, hands shaking. "Why do you think I even try? Do you think I would do this solely for – solely for myself?" His voice softened oddly towards the end of the halting, bitter question, and Tobias could not quite bring himself to look into his – his uncle's eyes, because he felt like such a – "Stop blaming yourself this instant. Stop it. I – I won't have it, understand?"

"Yeah." Toby felt the awful, stabbing guilt within him subside just a little at the firm command, felt himself sink back into the chair he'd started this conversation on. "Severus? I'm sorry – about the Ball, or Party or whatever, I was wondering – "

"Not now, Tobias," Severus said, cutting him off yet again, this time with a tired yawn. "Tomorrow morning, perhaps when I feel – better." Toby nodded carefully, rising from his seat, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "No blaming tonight, understand? Or you'll be useless for plotting in the morning." Toby nodded again, heart heavy within him as he watched his uncle stretch tiredly again. "After Potions class, of course. Go – it is almost dinnertime. Anything later will be suspicious…"

So Tobias left the classroom, and was quiet throughout his rather boisterous dinner surrounded by the four Slytherin students that seemed to be shaping his life there so far. He was even quieter that night in bed as he tried not to think of the Dark Lord, and tried to return to that not-quite-happy-but-not-sad state he'd somehow achieved during the day.

And failed, on both counts.

* * *

_A/N: God is really being good to me. Never thought I'd finish this, I tell you. Head aches. Will probably post before I go to school, and hope this satisfies your PTT lusts until I can somehow eke out another one. (As I've got a detailed outline for the next two chapters, Chapter 4 looks way more promising than this one has for a while)._

_Okay, and serious news here – my LJ name has been updated to reflect my new pen name, so, just in case I disappear everywhere, don't be frightened or desperate or whatever – I've just changed my name. ;) _

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	4. Chapter 4: The Grind

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_A/N: In which Toby receives some bad news, and makes the best of it. _

_Warnings and Things: There's a wanking bit, but not where you'd expect it. Oh, and some gratuitous references to doing the nasty. And, interestingly, more angst than usual._

_Why this chapter name is so weird: because Toby's finally settled into – oh, yeah, that's why – the grind of everyday espionage. Has a nice ring to it, no?_

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**Chapter 4: The Grind**

The next morning, Toby woke to another headache and yet another…surfacing of his renewed, wayward libido. This time, he simply murmured two spells, one after another, and lowly hissed to Iona that he was going to take a shower.

_No scratching?_ She commented sarcastically, unwinding easily from around his arm and dropping, contented, between his warm sheets. When Toby blushed, she gave a short little hissing burst, her equivalent of a shrug. _You smell like you need to,_ she observed as he got out of bed, _but you don't look it –_

_Be quiet_, Toby snapped in answer, now carefully removing the doubly strong silencing spell he'd put on his curtains the night before. It had been doubly strong because he'd been paranoid and guilty. Toby sighed – the silencing spells may have been taken down, but the paranoia and guilt throbbed on within him.

It, he thought sourly, heading for the showers, was why Toby had cast a very careful concealing spell on himself so he could get to a (cold) shower without any outward fuss, feeling very much as if he didn't deserve the relieved lassitude that would come from touching himself. It, though he was only half-aware of the fact at best, was also the reason why Theo Nott didn't bother talking to him as he stalked into the shower room.

Well, not until after he'd emerged shivering from the shower cubicle swaddled thinly in his towel, and looking a little more agreeable than before.

"Bad night?" Toby jumped a little, colouring slightly as he spotted Theo's thin, half-clothed form opposite the mirrors nearby. He found himself grunting slightly in answer, not feeling particularly like saying anything – "Why are you up so early?"

«Meeting with Snape, » Toby said shortly in response. At the other boy's puzzled look, he realised abruptly that he hadn't answered in English, and did so with a sigh – one that had more secret sentiment in it than anyone could probably imagine. "I have a short meeting with my uncle before lessons," he said, tousling his hair dry with a careful precision that was now almost natural.

"A meeting or a _meeting_?" Theo asked quietly, running hands impatiently through his own hair. "That'll be two in one day, just about – "

"He was too tired to be of use last night," Toby said negligently, guilt colouring his thoughts.

"But he was out almost the whole day, probably swanning about Diagon Alley looking for 'supplies'," Theo said, rolling his eyes, his tone insulting. "Wasn't he, though? I think I went down there after lunch, and he wasn't there."

"Are you seriously asking me what he does in his spare time, Theo?" Toby returned, a small, slightly sheepish grin finally making its way onto his face as guilt made itself known in his already aching heart for belittling what exactly his uncle did in his spare time. "Besides, the only other thing I can think of that'd leave him so bloody winded and distracted probably isn't on that posh street of yours…"

"I," Theo gasped, blinking hard, "did not need that image. Not in the morning, for the love of – "

"At least you didn't take it calmly," Toby made a point of smirking wickedly as he opened the shower room door and _Accio_-ed his clothes into the room, tugging absent-mindedly at the strap of his wand holster, which had kept slipping up and down and generally being annoying in the shower. Theo didn't even give it a second look, this time around. His dorm mates were all well used to seeing him do everything with the small band strapped onto his arm. "That would really have been worrying, I can assure you – "

"Prat."

"Dolt."

"Wanker."

"Didn't, this morning," Toby said earnestly, ignoring the look of horrified fascination that passed over Theo's face, closely followed by stinging colour. "You know, for me it's more of a random pattern – "

"Could you not stop with the images?" Toby wondered why on earth he was now laughing so much, with the kind of guilt that was twisting away inside, and felt even more worried about the next thing he thought to say. Trying to suppress it and just get his clothes on failed once he saw the horribly embarrassed look on Theo's face. Then, he just couldn't hold it back –

"Sometimes my snake has – "

"Don't want to hear it!" Theo snapped, now fumbling about in the bundle of clothes he'd brought in with him.

"Helped – " _Oh, he was looking for his wand_ –

"_Silencio!"_

Toby resigned himself to the not all that worrying fate of silently laughing to death as Theodore stormed out from the shower room, the expression on his face torn between mortification and what looked like a severe need to laugh, hard.

A few sober moments later, he was vividly trying to regret the (rather perverted) things he'd said on purpose, as well as trying to convince himself that digging out his wand and thoroughly hexing Theo for that Silencing Spell had been warranted by his situation.

It was rather difficult as things stood, but the irresolute part of Toby was already yielding as he, scratching distractedly at his hair, approached his uncle's classroom door. Shivering a little as damp bits of his hair got irritatingly into his collar, Toby cast a hasty Warming Charm on his cloak, and had just about prepared himself for a ten or fifteen-minute wait, as sometimes happened, when Severus appeared.

"Uncle?" was all Toby had time to say before the familiar arm tugged him roughly into the Potions classroom. "What – "

"It is very simple," Severus whispered sharply, propelling him around the desks with a grip of steel. "You are to make an appearance – a prolonged one, at the Summer Party. Furthermore," Tobias' unvoiced objection was cut off by a brief, but blinding glare, "you are to execute a diversion in Slytherin House for at least two hours after the Party is over."

"_What?_ But I – " Toby's confusion was increased by how sharply his uncle released his firm hold on him, now waving his wand in firm strokes that resembled the _Denuntio region_ ward as he paused at the front of the classroom. Which didn't make sense, because Severus never used that one, he was far too paranoid, and it was easy to get through if you knew what you were doing –

"I spoke to the Headmaster," Severus said tersely, seeming not to hear a word Toby was saying or trying to say. "You will inform one of us what will be needed as of this evening by owl, do you understand? Now – " his uncle strode through the door connecting the classroom to his office, not even checking to see if his bewildered, upset so – nephew, _nephew_ was following or not. "You will stay here and keep up a conversation with me until I return."

"Severus, why don't you just – "

"There is no room, and more importantly, no _time_ for discussion, Tobias!" Severus whispered heatedly. "Sit down and _talk_." He wrenched a handful of Floo powder from the pot on the hearth and cast it into the low-burning fire, speaking in a firm, low tone as he stepped in, without a word or even a look back in Toby's direction. "Dumbledore's office! Proclamia!"

Tobias stood quietly there for a moment, alarm fevering his blood as he ground his teeth together in frustration. A minute of hot, irrational anger at his _relation_ for keeping him out of the loop once again followed and passed, and Toby moved out two chairs at the huge desk with an angry wave of his wand, one after the other. _I can't believe it – can't believe he seriously thinks I can do this_ –

"Don't stand there gaping, Tobias. Sit down," he snapped nervously, hoping against hope that he sounded like his fa – uncle. Uncle.

_Keep calm, you dolt!_

Thinking fast, Tobias silently added what hopefully sounded like someone sitting down, hard, and began speaking again, hardly knowing what he was saying as he desperately searched through the scrolls atop his uncle's desk for any clues, any bloody clues, whatsoever, as to how on earth he could do this –

_Wait. Transfiguration class._

"You never cease to astound me, Tobias. Even the way you sit is insulting…" he sneered, softly, as Severus would probably do it. Had probably done it, if only in his head. _Don't panic, don't think, just talk. Talk._ "I don't believe I impressed upon you the consequences of your ridiculous mishap in your class yesterday quite…fully… Something came to my attention yesterday. Something rather – rather _fascinating_."

"Just say it already," Toby murmured, as himself, thinking wildly, and suddenly, very suddenly, the idea came to him, wrapped in shrinking shreds of guilt and –

"It appears that you were distracted," he continued, a la Severus. "By your partner. Your female," he added, stressing the word dangerously, "partner."

"If that old biddy said anything about – "

"I am not interested in excuses, you wretched little by-blow," Toby said, his voice as low and cold as he could make it, the feeling of guilt tingling horribly all over him now, even as he condemned himself. Pretending to do so was – disturbingly easy – "I am not ignorant of your habits – your womanising. Be advised that pursuing such a course here will be extremely reckless on your part, especially if you should decide to trouble one of the students in my own house."

"I fail to see, as always, why the _fuck_ it's your business or anyone's business who I feel like fucking," Tobias spat back, at himself, heart thudding and wrenching unpleasantly as he got up, feeling some extra vitriol – the sound of walking around, at least, was needed. "And the connection's even harder to see as I had no intention of trying anything on my partner in Transfigurations in the first place – "

"Nevertheless, consider yourself warned," Toby said, cutting himself off with a low hiss. "Whatever you get up to at that Summer Party you're so fixated on attending, I assure you it will be most disadvantageous if I should hear of your engagement in such a pursuit – "

«I can't believe this!» Toby shouted back at himself, in Romanian, hoping not to implicate himself in any more than was planned, or to overdo it somehow. He was supposed to be a bit imbalanced, after all – if anyone was overhearing them, it would have to be convincing, and he knew he could be more convincing in Romanian – «I did _not_ leave one controlling bastard to be controlled by another, you useless sack of -»

«Be _silent_!» He half shouted, cutting himself off as he dearly hoped no one would notice how his sentences seemed to end so conveniently. Unwelcome beads of sweat were on his forehead now, and he had no fucking clue what he would do if he ran out of ideas, or – "You will not raise your voice at me again, do you understand? I have no time to make you understand your folly, as pleasurable as that would be, so stop chewing on your lip and answer me. Now."

"Are you really that threatened by me?" Toby said now, voice low with very genuine frustration and disbelief as he glared at the fireplace. _Bloody hell, I've got a fucking headache now, and if Severus doesn't Floo in in five minutes, I'll – I'll _– "Or is it that – "

The grate flared up, and a sooty Severus stepped out, a look of worry on his face.

"Ridiculous," he sneered, hoping it was convincing as Severus silently approached his desk and selected a piece of parchment. "I have no idea what you put in my grate this morning to force it into behaving in this ridiculous manner, Tobias, but I suggest you remove it. _Now_." Severus tapped the parchment rapidly and slotted it across the desk to him, close enough that he could see blue letters scurrying across its surface:

ATTENDANCE AT PARTY ABSOLUTELY MANDATORY. SEND YOURSELF OUT.

Toby nodded, the sullen look he could feel on his face translating easily into the bored tone of his voice.

"Done insulting my intelligence?" he demanded, meaning it as he gave his uncle a hard look. "For now," he drawled insultingly in reply, "Do take yourself from my presence – I've had quite enough of your company to last me into this evening and beyond." Toby slammed his chair back, rising abruptly, insides writhing with anger and shame, and _what on _earth_ was the point of me staying here and _–

Severus intercepted his path to the door of the office neatly, suddenly sweeping him into a silent, stiff – almost unyielding embrace, as he began to whisper very, very quietly into his ear.

"_I will owl you. Keep yourself safe…_"

Toby, released from the embrace just as abruptly as he had been drawn into it, stepped back, hard, a sudden realisation seizing hold of him.

They were going on a raid.

His heart seemed to drop sharply into his stomach, and tears of fear and frustration bit at his eyes.

"How long?" he mouthed quickly, determinedly projecting the thought of a journey into Severus' mind as strongly as he could. For a minute he thought he'd done it wrong, or not tried hard enough, but then Severus held up three fingers, then tapped the calendar on his desk as he moved one of the chairs abruptly, forcing Toby to dart over and lean and look, and see it was – _the twentieth – Thursday. God, so soon_ –

"Drop that and get out, you foolish boy," Severus snapped, gesturing towards the door with a worried expression on his face as he deftly positioned himself at his desk, Levitating some scrolls haphazardly onto his desk probably so it would look like he'd been occupied the whole time from the vantage point of – Toby turned sharply – that was right, anyone looking in through the door.

"Whatever," Toby muttered loudly, recognising the cautious nod of his uncle with one of his own as he strode for the door – opened it – "Morning, Draco."

Draco hardly even flinched as Toby surveyed him, barely restraining the anger and fear collecting within him. Draco merely inclined his head and pushed past him to get into Snape's office, and Toby had to physically restrain himself from looking back.

_You're supposed to be angry. Angry and afraid of your uncle_, he ordered himself inwardly, trying not to think of how his headache had gotten stronger in the last minute. Somehow he forced himself to walk, now following the ragged trail of students heading for a late breakfast as best as he could.

* * *

In the Great Hall, he spotted Theo's head at the rather bare Slytherin table almost instantly and headed for it, deeply desiring some silence to let him think and stop panicking, stop fabricating horrible awful pictures of his uncle in agony at the hands of the Dark – 

"There he is," a wry voice said, startling him out of his morbid thoughts as he slid into what he vaguely realised was an empty space.

It turned out to be – just one that was…disadvantageously positioned. And by disadvantageously positioned, Toby meant almost near enough to pillow his aching head on Tracey Davis' nonexistent bosom.

Well, nearly nonexistent. Toby's lustful eye was irritatingly efficient, and if it was sure that something lay behind that neatly pressed robe front, then it was probably correct –

"Merlin, Toby, what'd your uncle do to you?" Theo inquired, waving his hand impatiently before his face. "Tracey just said hi, and you didn't – "

"Theo, shut up," Tracey said, pinking almost delicately. "If he wants to devote his attention to making up," her voice took on a mocking bent, "hideously complex plots against his uncle in his mind at breakfast of a Saturday morning instead of talking to me, let him."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" Tobias said, realising a little too late that his tone was a little too low and (_do not blush. Do not_) silky to be anything but flirtatious.

"Oh please, Theo's probably got more assets to daydream about than I have," Tracey said jokingly, despite her increasing flush.

"I'll believe that when I see it," Toby couldn't hold back. He flashed her his most flirtatious smile and felt absurdly gratified that her colour increased a little. Time for some damage control – it wouldn't go down well at all with Snape if she found he was more serious than he seemed about, well, her, maybe – "I can't believe you're blushing, you know. If you're impervious to our dear Draco, you should be to me." Tracey snorted, shaking hair out of her face as she bit into a sandwich, unwittingly ensuring that her robe front pulled a little tight, and revealed –

_Mind. Gutter. Out._

"Don't act all innocent, Toby – " she began, causing an awful jab of embarrassment and fear to go through him – she couldn't have noticed, he couldn't have been staring, and what would Severus –

" – with that voice, you could probably excite the dead," Theo finished for her, winking knowingly in his (_relieved, so relieved_) direction.

"Pah," Toby replied, rolling his eyes as he finally began to eat. A little of the leftover tension from the meeting with his uncle started to seep out of him as he started on his mishmash of a salad, which was actually not bad. "Prove it," he added, as an afterthought, not expecting Theo to take him up on it.

"I can and I will," came the retort from Theo, just as Toby checked his wristwatch, meaning to leave – he needed a session in the Room of Requirement so badly it hurt. "Eh, Blaise?" Theo elbowed a sleepy Blaise beside him, causing him to look up with bleary eyes.

"Whatever." Blaise muttered distractedly, giving him an accusing look as the water in his goblet spilled. "Oh, see what you made me do, you bastard – "

"You should know better than to do that to him in the mornings, Theo," Tracey added snidely, jabbing her fork in her grinning friend's direction.

"It's for his own good," Theo insisted, ignoring Blaise's glare. "If Toby is up for a spot of very petty gambling, then – "

"I'll do it, if only to stop Blaise from killing you for poking him for nothing," Toby replied guardedly, biting into his ham-and-egg sandwich with faked gusto. _There's also the fact that I need to get out of there before I do something I'll regret_ –

"Perfect," Theo said, his grin turning evil. "Unfortunately, it relies on you going to the Summer Party – "

"Which I'm perfectly fine with."

" – and going alone."

"Who was I going to ask, anyway? That weird girl that keeps staring at me in Charms, or that – that Ravenclaw that made sitting next to me sound like a proposition?" Toby finished rapidly, a genuine grin taking hold of his face now. He could feel it – this was going to be useful, this dare. This might even be –

"You'll go," Theo continued, obviously ignoring Toby's sarcastic comments, "and you will ask every girl from fourth year to seventh – twenty-four, isn't it, Blaise? – to dance with you at least once." Theo peered at him closely, the expression on his face indicating that he clearly expected Tobias to balk at the (barbaric, and obviously designed to be embarrassing) terms.

Of course, he wouldn't know to account for the fact that Toby was supposed to cause a stir at the Summer Party, and that he was more than welcoming towards ideas on how to effectively do that, so –

"From any house, eh?" Theo blinked, and Blaise stared. Toby didn't dare to look at what Tracey was doing – his brain would lead him to look downwards, and it would be so obvious – "Well? I don't see forty girls in Slytherin above fourth year to dance with – "

"It's twenty-four, to be exact. And I said fourth year _to_ seventh – "

"And I balk before fifth. I don't flirt with children," Toby said with just the right amount of Lofty Snapeish Bastard in his tone. "And the extra sixteen is for accuracy – you can hardly base your suppositions on only twenty-something girls from our house, that won't be accurate in the least, and won't allow for mean deviation or even for girls that don't come – "

"But you already _agreed_," Theo said quickly, seeming to cotton on to the fact that people around them were listening. "And you didn't let me finish my terms, either." Tobias mockingly raised his goblet to his friends, and, feeling all the eyes that were being drawn to his, wondered if it would be this easy to keep the entire school distracted.

"So I'm at a disadvantage, and rightly entitled to some restatement in the oral contract," Toby reeled off, flashing Theo a nasty smile as he inwardly praised Severus for bothering to teach him some rudimentary tenets of magical law. His brain also collected a hefty bit of the praise - how it had remembered that strange little fact was entirely beyond him.

"Fine," Theo agreed, a calculating look appearing on his face. "You can only restate once, though, so it'll _stay_ at forty girls, fifth to seventh year, and from all houses, won't it?"

"Indeed," Toby drawled, waving negligently in Theo's direction. "Go on – I feel lucky." Everyone on the Slytherin table seemed to surreptitiously move closer at those words, and Toby felt a small seed of hope blossom in his anxious heart. Maybe it would be this easy…

"The rest of the terms," Theo drawled, a predatory smile on his face, "go thus: if more than half of the girls you ask tell you to piss off, you win. If not, I win."

"And I get – "

"Satisfaction, plus mocking rights for the rest of the term." Toby gave him a level look. "And some kind of alcohol, free of charge, two rounds…three?" Toby nodded, sitting back in his chair. "Three rounds it is. Alcoholic in the making, eh, Toby?"

"It's not a crime for a man to like his beer," Toby said, snorting in what he hoped was a convincing manner. At least he had a chance of having his outright insinuation being believed, as Tobias Snape –

"And _you_ get – " Tracey said, leaning uncomfortably close to Toby as she smirked at Theo.

"Satisfaction, etcetera, two rounds of some kind of alcohol, free of charge. And five questions Tobias _has_ to answer truthfully about himself." Toby stared at him, the heat of alarm starting up into his cheeks – who could tell what he's going to – "What? You're slippery to pin down, and you know it. You can't blame a bloke for actually trying to get you to answer some things." Tobias shrugged, forcing his Man of Mystery smirk onto his face as he drained his goblet.

"I'm a Snape. We're all slippery," he said, the smirk widening into an involuntary grin as he suddenly realised that he might very well have his plan, or half of it – "We already have a deal, I suppose?"

"We most certainly do," Theo said, grinning again. "Cheers, Snape." Toby rolled his eyes as he winked triumphantly in his direction, mind racing. Now, there was just the two hours _after_ the Ball to take care of –

"Speaking of Snape," a now wide-awake Blaise mused, "what about dear Uncle Severus?" As if on cue, someone burst angrily through the doors of the Great Hall, stamping directly for their table.

"What about him?" Tobias said, not bothering to see who it was, and hoping against hope that it was Severus. With the way things were going, a blow-up between the two of them in public would keep people distracted up to the blasted Party, and could probably help as well –

"Won't he be a little twitchy with you feeling up every girl in Hogwarts on that night?" Blaise said, his lips twitching with something that would probably be a smile.

"That'll be his problem, not mine," Toby said, trying to suppress the leer he felt coming up at the thought of trying to feel up Tracey. He'd have to be very, very thorough at it, wouldn't he, having to press her into a wall and really – "And, besides, he's not going to – "

"It is your problem, though, isn't it?" a very, very, _very_ familiar voice said smugly, from behind him. "I heard him reading you the riot act about it this morning, you know." Toby bristled inwardly – so Draco _had_ been listening, the nosy bastard. He'd have to ask Severus and see how he'd known – "Budge up, will you – "

Toby realised suddenly that Draco was trying to sit by him, and abruptly decided he wasn't going to suffer that this morning. Affecting deafness, he swung round, fluidly setting his legs up on the bench and scooting backwards so he was pressing delightfully against a very surprised Tracey.

Toby wasn't exactly sure how that was going to stop Draco, but he was damned if he wasn't going to try.

"I said budge up, not – " Toby gave him a level look, rapidly sifting through the surface emotions he gleaned from Draco's eyes and slight look of consternation.

_Anger, fear, embarrassment, doesn't want to be…flirted with?_ Toby only just stopped his eyebrows from rising into his hairline by gritting his teeth. Why would Draco be afraid of being…flirted with, if he'd overheard the fake conversation with Snape? Toby probed as deep as he could with only seconds at his disposal, his decision already half made. And then –

Almost as if it was his own thought, Draco's irritated musing that _he doesn't swing that way, you idiot, he's not going to _– popped into his head, and that was it. As long as it got results, he really couldn't care less about why –

"What's wrong with sitting right here, Draco?" Toby said, his tone almost clueless, "I'm strong, you won't hurt me – " He suppressed a grin as he heard Tracey's muffled, amused, "Oh, Merlin!" and Theo's choking from opposite him.

"I'm not sitting on your legs, you arse," Draco snapped, face reddening as he realised how many people were looking at them, thoughts bleeding through with embarrassment. "Budge _up_, for the love of – "

Tobias almost grinned. It couldn't be going any better – but soon might –

"Well, you did remind me that my uncle won't be happy if I'm a bit too…pleasant…" he said haltingly, his voice going seductively low as poorly disguised gasps went around the people watching. "…to all the girls. So, I thought he wouldn't mind if I was pleasant to the boys – "

Tracey made a small, choking sound that did offensive things to Tobias' abdomen –

And Draco's face shot satisfyingly full of angry, embarrassed colour. Toby smiled happily – that was payback, and the embarrassment of this scene was already more than well worth it. The anger and mortification was practically wafting off Draco now as he struggled to keep his composure, and for a moment, Toby wondered if it was strictly healthy to enjoy this scene quite this much.

The moment didn't last long at all.

"I've got no options, you see," Toby continued, letting some amusement leak into his tone. "And since you were so kind as to remind me, I thought that – "

"He said you liked girls, you idiot," Draco hissed angrily. "You're just doing this because – "

Blaise was covering up his laughter very badly with fake coughs, and Theo was almost laughing openly, and pure victory was lacing through Toby's head like shards of sugary ice – "Because I want you?"

"Shut up!"

Feeling Tracey smother her laughter behind him was now severely testing Toby's limits of non-visibility in an area that could be all too visible if she merely looked over his shoulder, so he swung down his legs on the other side of the bench, giving Draco a bold once-over as he ground his teeth. "Fine. But you can't keep denying this forever – "

"Come on, you mean bastard," Tracey whispered laughingly, jerking at his hand as she stood up, evidently having realised his intention to leave. Toby allowed her to drag him to his feet, a mockingly longing look plastered firmly onto his face. Tracey swallowed, then said, in a much louder tone, "Come on, Tobias, there's no call to be pining after our Draco like that – "

"But I want him," Toby said loudly as Draco sat down, hard, his face still burning with embarrassment. _So she's game for some Draco-bashing – bloody perfect_ – "I have _needs_, Tracey – "

Toby could almost hear the snort behind them, coming from Draco's direction, and wondered just how serious Draco was in his on-and-off, one-sided flirtation with Tracey, and if he wasn't just being a little jealous or paranoid. Not that there was much to be paranoid about, or anything, or jealous about, either –

"Let me take care of them, then," Tracey said, tone unabashedly sentimental, as she wound an arm round his waist, batting her eyes up at him. Toby almost stumbled in surprise, not because he hadn't expected her to play along to a (admittedly smaller) degree, but because the eye thing was unexpectedly distracting, as was the warm feeling of her arm around him. The distinctly Draco-tinged angry muttering (that surely housed some kind of insult of him) that followed them seemed to fade sharply into the background as Tracey gave Toby a pleased grin, nodding encouragement for him to continue the whole setup.

"What about my uncle?" he asked, almost meaning it, voice slightly unsteady with knowing how much the very idea of her tending to his needs aroused him –

"I won't tell him," Tracey mock whispered, her mouth wobbling comically from the effort it was taking her not to laugh.

"Good," Toby choked out, torn between laughter and deadly seriousness as they began to walk out of the Great Hall, all too aware of the giggling going on round them.

"So, Tobias," Tracey said breathlessly, "about those needs – "

Toby gave up, curling over with laughter as they slipped out of the double doors. It was literally either that or press her to the wall and start exploring the possibilities beneath her robe front, the way he was feeling. Heady. Thoroughly unbalanced with arousal.

Tracey let go of him, shaking with laughter, and he gulped through his laughter, thankful that she'd thought to do that. Merlin, he hoped she couldn't see how far gone he was, but thought of giving that up as a lost cause because his trousers were almost too painful to walk in.

"You're horrible, you know that?" Tracey gasped, not helping at all. "He was really worried you'd jump him in the Hall – "

"Bite your tongue," Tobias said forcefully, fighting against the images the thought of her tongue brought to mind. "The thought of letting him touch me is really revolting, I'll have you know…" It really was, and that thought reduced his…stress…quite a bit, replacing it with aggression. Maybe he could get the Room to produce blond mannequins in the style of Lucius Malfoy –

"Where are you headed, then?" Tracey said, pulling hair out of her face.

_Or_, Toby's heated brain mused, _I could just get her into an empty classroom and_ –

"Duelling practice," he forced himself to say. He was _not_ going to come on to her. He was _not_ going to try and kiss her, or touch her, or get her to touch him –

"On a Saturday?" Tracey gave him a look of pure amusement. "No wonder you're miles ahead of the rest of us – "

"Not you," Toby found his mouth saying, his treacherous, stupid mouth, which was shortly going to be pressed up against her soft lips if he wasn't forceful enough to shut it up – _oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck_, the _images_ that conjured –

Tracey snorted – "Please, you could have me for breakfast any time."

_Don't say it. Do _not_ say anything, you horny idiot_ –

"You're good enough at blocking that it'd be hard," Toby replied, trying not to wince as his erection took painful notice of – _no, I won't say it, I won't talk about anything but duelling_ – "You just need to work on your counters and speed, and that comes with practice."

"Thanks for humouring me," she replied, voice going a little softer than normal. "I know I should probably be better, especially in these times, but…" she shrugged, her face going a bit blank, "…I just can't – can't care, sometimes." Tobias nodded reassuringly, suddenly finding that his traitorous desires had changed their object. Now he wanted to comfort her, _then_ press her up against a wall – "Especially when everything's just – when my family's just – " A look of shock passed across Tracey's face, and she looked down. "Oh Christ, I'm whining. To you." As if it made a difference, that it was him, or something.

_It makes a difference to me_, his cock throbbed hungrily. _A big, big difference_ –

_Shut it, please_, he begged inwardly. He had to get to a bathroom – to somewhere, _anywhere_, before he embarrassed himself –

"You don't see me complaining," he replied somehow. "This is my turn, here, so…" They paused, staring uncomfortably at each other. "If you ever want someone to cast at, it's me, all right? And, as for the whining – " he winked carefully at her, determinedly thinking _not sexual, not sexual, just friendly_, " – you can do that whenever you want, too."

Tracey looked hard at him for a moment, eyes thoughtful. "Your uncle really said all that, didn't he?" she said, very quietly. "You don't seem like the type to do – be that person, I think," she added, after Toby shrugged in what was hopefully a convincing manner.

"What kind of person?" he asked, leaning forward very carefully, knowing he couldn't afford to reach there and adjust, as –

"Like Draco," she replied, wryly. "Oh – I suppose I wouldn't know. But you haven't tried anything just yet, have you?" she narrowed her eyes mockingly at him. "Draco would've, by now, you know. Had me up against a…wall," she continued, tone faltering suddenly. Toby's thoughts chased himself around in his head as he fought the strong desire to Legilimise her – he was so aroused, now, that some of that could possibly spill over, and where would he be then – "I talk a lot, don't I?"

"No." She continued anyway, as if she'd not heard his almost steady reply.

"I'd better leave you to your practice, then," she said, carefully, tilting a sharp little smile his way as she started to drift off. Toby didn't trust himself to speak again – just smiled, and nodded, and wondered why she coloured as she walked off, hips drawing his notice. He turned away, walking fast, berating himself for looking like that, because she could easily have turned round and seen him, and it wasn't –

Then, his erection asserted itself, and he made a relieved, panting detour into a deserted classroom and warded it messily, left hand already grasping and pumping, hips moving sharply as he gripped his wand and moved his hand faster on his cock, unable to stop his imagination from spreading her against a wall and moulding himself to her and touching and –

"Fuck," he slurred out, throat thick with the relief, the release of finally coming. It seemed to take forever, his trousers feeling deliciously warm and wet, his nipples uncomfortably hard as they brushed against his shirt beneath his robes, and it took him a minute or two to realise he was just moving his hand against his soft, sated cock, and a minute more to stop oversensitising himself, to take his brain off the track that was pretending it was Tracey doing it – _that's it – hand away from cock, that's right_ –

"Fuck," Toby said, voice quiet. "Fuck." _I have a problem. A bloody problem, and it just means I'm not going to ask her to dance at the Party. That's all. And no being alone with her._ "Yeah," he muttered to himself, ignoring the part of his mind encouraging him to lean against a wall or desk and open his trousers and really finish the job properly, and yet he was inclined to agree, because he was getting hard again, already. «I can't do this,» he whispered to himself, unable to stop his hand from dropping his wand and opening his trousers, reaching into his damp underpants and squeezing – «I can't keep doing this,» he muttered distractedly, doing it. Touching, squeezing, eyes drifting closed as he imagined her hand on him, stroking softly, whispering into his ear in that breathy little accented voice, her other hand snaking around his waist and squeezing his bum, her voice telling him she thought he had the greatest arse and she couldn't stop looking and would do anything if he'd let her touch his bare skin –

It didn't take very much longer than the first time for his traitorous cock to burst again, and this time Toby reached for his wand. He dismissed the thought of remaining here, letting the cool air in the classroom drift over his bare skin as he thought guiltily of her again, and _stop that, button your bloody trousers, and leave your fucking shirt _alone_, you wanker_.

He cursed softly as he realised he'd have to mutter the cleaning spell more than once. Reminded himself that he had more things to do than sit in here and wank. Finally got himself to close his trousers and mutter the cleaning spell again, for where it was needed.

A minute later, Tobias had emerged from the classroom, cheeks displaying the barest hint of pink (he'd checked before he left, actually conjured a bloody mirror and checked), looking for the entire world like he'd not rushed in there some time before, hard enough to pound through the bloody door if it wasn't open.

Toby headed for the Room of Requirement, hoping it would be empty. If it wasn't, he wasn't quite sure he wouldn't cast a tracking spell and try to find Tracey and talk to her about kissing and an arrangement they could possibly reach – test out this strange new attractive part of him and see if it really, really worked. When he spotted the empty stretch of wall, his heart seemed to leap and fall simultaneously, but the decision to find Tracey was soon a moot point.

Toby began to pace, easily settling into the complicated thought he'd need to coax the Room open and full of things to practice on. As the door appeared, he sighed. _I might not be able to resist wanking to her like a pervert, but I draw the line at actually torturing myself by seeking her out and asking her to _– he blushed, charging through the door – _kiss me_.

That the pathetic thought of begging Tracey to kiss him engendered both horror and avid curiosity within him effectively sealed the deal. And besides, the Room was perfect today – sometimes it didn't quite generate what he'd had in mind, but today…today the Room had come up with an intriguing cross between a mannequin and Lucius Malfoy, producing muttering, faceless blond would-be assailants, and Toby sighed contentedly, mindlessly warding the door shut as usual. This would keep his mind off Tracey long enough for him to get his daft head back in the game, and start planning his 'distraction' for the Party. Well, he hoped so…

Tobias raised his wand, tensing as he felt the Room lock him in from behind, like he'd just been about to do, in addition to everything else. The first spell whispered past him as the lights went out, and then he wasn't really thinking of anything except who to take down next.

Which absolutely was fine by him.

* * *

Just over an hour later, the Room of Requirement was a mess once more, and so was Toby. 

Well, not really a mess, more of an attractive one. After some internal debate (and some despairing as to just how vain he was becoming), Toby allowed himself to think determinedly for a mirror, and darted towards the wall on which one appeared, just to –

Fine, he was preening again. Perhaps it was all the sweat, or all the wanking he'd done not so long ago, but he did have an irresistible desire to find out what he looked like, right now. A feeling that was part shock and part contentment ran through Toby again as he surveyed his panting self in the mirror, running careless fingers through his hair. It was sweaty and sticking haphazardly out of the ponytail it had been when he'd entered the Room, and it looked interesting against his pink, flushed skin.

Toby sheathed his wand carefully, shoulders sagging as he looked round at the chaos he'd caused, a feeling of deja-vu seeping into him very slowly. Apart from the copious amounts of burnt blond hair and all-too-realistically moaning mannequins around (and the copious evidence of dodgy spells he'd not known months before now), it could have been him standing here in the Room of Requirement last year, taking stock of the effects of his anger. Still angry, sometimes, even after the sought-after release of pure fury.

Toby let himself sink abruptly to the floor and sit down with a thud, pushing hair out of his eyes. He still remembered how to be – his old self, albeit in an uncomfortably distant way. Heady with the danger of it, he tried to fake a sentence or two, and was disconcerted to find that he actually couldn't. The Romanian accent clung thickly to his tongue, and it felt almost natural to swear softly to himself in it, his – his natural tongue.

Toby put his head in his hands, disorientation sweeping over him like a heavy blanket. What would come of this? What happened if – if everything was finished, _over,_ forever, and he had to become…himself, again? He could barely speak with a British accent now, could barely remember the expressions he'd used before. For fuck's sake, he didn't even have his friends anymore, or even – his crush. His mind wandered back to an hour ago, to mercilessly teasing Draco and encouraging Theo to out-bargain him, and he couldn't see himself doing it. His old self.

_Maybe – maybe Harry Potter is really dead_, Toby cautiously let himself think. _Maybe_.

He rose to his feet, not knowing precisely why he felt somehow relieved. Being Tobias Snape, being Toby was just…easier than he thought. Being himself, really, if you really thought about it. That was why it felt natural, not because he'd become someone else entirely, or wasn't still the same somewhere under that bizarrely Snapeish exterior. And he would explain it to everyone, when it was over. He would.

_Now, for the two hours_, Toby forced himself to think. The idea of distracting the Slytherins after the Summer Party seemed both tremendously daunting and foolishly easy at the same time, now. All it would take was some application of himself.

And maybe a change of clothes. Toby wrinkled his nose, amusement ghosting through him as he realised there was more of it to wrinkle than – than there had been, then. Why it occurred to him now, he couldn't say, but it cheered him up inexplicably, and soothed his niggling sense of worry as he made his way down to the dungeons to change and plot.

"…can't believe it, bloody outrage – "

"Can't they at least try to make up a separate Party for first years? I can't stand to think of what my stupid prat of a brother would say to my mum if he saw me flirting with someone, can you even imagine – "

Tobias slowed almost immediately, ignoring the remnants of his guilty conscience. This was his purpose as a sp – student here, wasn't it? As degrading and unjust as it felt to eavesdrop on the conversation of the two girls walking in front of him, it was what he was supposed to do. Gauging the feelings within the houses here obviously required doing some old-fashioned listening at doors and in corridors, so –

Well, he didn't actually know which house they were from yet, so the House part was irrelevant. That could be arranged, of course.

Toby yawned once, quickening his pace so that he drew abreast with the two girls, noting the way they blushed at his appearance despite being – well, despite at least one of them being a Hufflepuff. No one in his year, thankfully, or they might actually have spoken to him.

_And still might_, Toby reminded himself, suddenly realising he was only just in front of the pair. He lengthened his stride as subtly as possible, registering the slightly wistful sigh he heard behind him with alarm, which only heightened when the first girl spoke again, only just loud enough for him to hear.

"I wonder what he's been doing to work up a sweat like that…"

"Have you ever seen him without his robes?" the second girl said, a little too excitedly for his tastes.

"Luckily enough, I caught him going to breakfast without them this weekend – "

"Weren't his trousers tight?"

"Fuck yeah. Dunno how he walks in 'em, but he definitely looks – "

Toby increased his stride again, this time doing it abruptly, as if he'd just remembered something.

Which he had. Imagining people thinking comments like _that_ was a far cry from actually hearing two girls seriously discuss the merits of his tight trousers, and he'd just remembered that holding on to his dignity and right to move robeless about Hogwarts unembarrassed was worth more than whatever drivel those two crazies behind him could possibly reveal.

Toby slumped, relieved, against the door of the classroom as he heard the footsteps and gossipy voices travel by. His cheeks were literally on fire, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been as embarrassed and flattered and _not wanting to be_ as this. And all for a Party and a fucking disturbance. Toby cursed thickly in Romanian, irritated with himself in hindsight for actually suggesting this – this travesty.

He pushed tense fingers through his hair, warding the classroom out of habit as he made a beeline for the nearest chair. What if every bloody girl at the Party thought the same thing as those two? What if everyone he asked said yes, practically raped him on the floor with their eyes, and went on to gossip about how he had said 'will you dance with me' in that lovely, deep voice, and –

_Deep breath. In. Out._

Toby repeated the deep breaths, focussing on calm, cooling waters. He didn't have to worry like this. All he had to do was provide a diversion during the Party and after it, which was already half set up. _You just need to think,_ he reminded himself, forcing his brain to reconsider the first (less embarrassing) half of the conversation he'd overheard.

"…_bloody outrage…"_

"…_first years? I can't stand…stupid prat…mother…flirting with someone…"_

_Bloody outrage._

_First years._

_Party._

_Separate first years – party. _

Tobias jolted slightly, in his seat. A separate party. A _separate party_ – that was it! It'd been under his bloody huge nose all the time, and he'd just needed to listen and let go of his embarrassment, and – _how on earth am I going to manage a separate party?_

_For one thing, I'll need somewhere for it to happen_, Toby allowed himself to cautiously think. _Probably the dungeons, then, since Severus won't be here this weekend because of…the fact that he's going to be on leave_, he finished, just catching himself on time. That fact had been true up until he found out this morning about what his uncle would really be doing in his spare time this weekend, so it wouldn't be hard to hold on to. Besides, it meant that Severus wouldn't be there to see whatever mess Toby made of the whole –

Back to the party.

_All the Slytherins, maybe fourth year and above?_ That sounded feasible, and everyone would surely want some time away from the constraining influence of the teachers that would be supervising the Summer Party, as well as from the prying eyes of younger years that wouldn't quite know what was going on, but would know enough to get their older siblings in trouble if anything really…interesting, went on.

"So, influencing desires would be mainly the desire for secrecy and maybe one for real drinks and the absence of teachers," Toby mutteredlowly to himself. "It might just work…"

Fifteen minutes later and one or two turns away from the Slytherin dorms, the plan was looking distinctly less half-arsed and more and more of a real possibility to Toby. Now, if he could just convince someone his own age that the existence of quite another party from the official one would be extremely cool, he would be fine.

Toby suppressed a grin as he tossed out the password and ducked through the resulting doorway in the wall ahead. It would be…what was that saying? Like shooting fish in a barrel. Yeah –

"Blaise, my good man!" Toby said expansively, ignoring the curious looks that assaulted him practically as soon as he stepped into the common room. "You'll never believe what I'm thinking about – "

"I don't think I ever want to be on your bad side, Toby – would you believe Draco's hiding in our dorm?" Theo looked a little too much on the smug side for his hushed tone of concern to carry any weight. Not that Toby expected it to, of course.

Blaise shook his head, smiling slightly as Tobias approached them. "I think he called it sleeping, Theo – "

"I don't care what he called it. He's hiding in our dorm, and everyone knows it," Theo retorted, dragging Toby down into the squashy armchair between him and Blaise, the expression on his face vindictive enough to put a Snape to shame. Toby affected concern just as Theo had just a minute earlier, running a hand through his hair almost nervously as he saw some seventh year girl – Emily Greengrass? She looked a lot like Daphne, somehow – eye him up, none too discreetly.

"It was just a joke, though – he knows that, doesn't he?"

"You're abysmal at playing innocent, so drop it," Theo said impatiently, shutting the Transfiguration text he'd had open before him and tossing it dramatically on the floor. "So, tell me – was it or was it not about him listening in on a Meeting?"

"Well, more or less. He should know not to go sticking his absurd little nose into my business," Toby replied easily, grinning as Blaise groaned and shut his obscure-looking Ancient Runes book and began to fish about in his robes as Theo gave him a smug grin.

"Merlin, only a Snape would insult you for having a normal nose – "

"Comments about my nose will be punished, Theo." Toby watched idly as Blaise extracted a slightly worn (but obviously expensive) purse from his robes and, glaring in his friend's direction, begin to root around in it. _So they actually bet on me_..._wonder if anyone else did_ –

A quick look around bolstered his confidence somewhat, as, to his slight surprise, coins seemed to be being discretely exchanged all around the common room.

"Even good ones?" Theo was saying plaintively, grinning as Blaise grudgingly extended two Galleons across Toby.

"Even good ones, because such a thing called sarcasm exists. I'll just pretend not to know the difference, and hex accordingly."

"Fair enough, fair enough," Theo said, snatching up the Galleons with a nasty grin, which widened as Blaise glared at him again. "Oh, come on Blaise, it's only money – "

"Sometimes I forget why I never gamble with him," Blaise said to Toby, ignoring his grinning friend. "He's the only one I've ever _not_ wanted to argue with about paying up, I swear – "

"Oh, but he won't give me any grief if he wins, will you Theo?" Toby said plaintively, allowing a bland, saccharine look onto his face.

"You know, if you make it a habit to punish people by flirting with them, I just might," Theo said, sending a jokingly suggestive leer his way. Toby thanked his skin for what was the – _fifth? sixth? It's like today's Embarrass Tobias Day_ – time that day, and leered right back.

"Oh, I only make exceptions like that for Draco. For everyone else, it's a nice clean hex." Theo made an exaggeratedly sorrowful face. "Sorry to disappoint…"

"Oh, ignore him," Blaise said, rolling his eyes. "Where've you been, anyway?"

"A little duelling practice," Tobias said, now starting to really feel just how sweaty he was.

"So _that's_ why you stink," Blaise said, his grin taking the edge off the insult. "No offence, mate, but looks don't solve all your problems – "

"I'm going, I'm going," Toby said, reluctant to relinquish his seat between the two Slytherins while he was still psyched about the party idea. "Before I go de-stink, though, I wanted to run something by the both of you." Theo looked up, like Blaise, looking only mildly interested. "Two words: separate party."

"For…?"

"For those of us Slytherins who aren't kids," Toby said bluntly, pushing up his sleeves almost absently before realising his scars would be on display, then counting a few seconds before slowly rolling them down again. "A party at which we can actually dance and drink freely, you know?"

"Does this have something to do with your wanting to make a pass at Draco when no one's looking?" Theo joked, the underlying expression under his amusement a little too thoughtful to make it a real one.

Tobias, despite his dry mouth, somehow found a reply to the unmistakeable latent question. _Are you afraid of your uncle? Afraid enough to avoid situations where he'll have the upper hand? Afraid that –_

Toby mentally shook his head. Of _course_ he couldn't intimate that he was. That would make them lose confidence in him –

_Answer already!_

"All I'll ever need to flirt is my body and brain, thank you." Toby smiled lazily, hoping he wouldn't sound like a complete idiot – "The benefit of privacy is subjective at best, I'll have you know."

"You pervert," Theo returned, a slight note of awe mixed in with the unabashed interest in his voice.

"Besides, nothing is ever private when you're with someone," Toby added, for good measure, wondering how on earth that had come to him. And then very abruptly quashing the thought, because that thought led to surprisingly dangerous places –

"I don't want to hear that, I want to hear _details_," Theo said plaintively, scowling as Tobias rose from his seat, stretching slowly.

Toby fought back a scowl of his own as he forced himself to really consider what would eventually have to be said – lies about how he'd participated in group – right, not thinking about that yet. Theo groaned as Toby began to move away from the pair, trying to ignore just how hard everyone around them was listening into the whole thing, trying to ignore how his useless brain wasn't cooperating, wasn't letting him reach the solitude of the showers before he crawled all over with shame and disgust and fear.

"Come on, you can't leave us hanging here – "

_No, I can't, can I? I just had to open my stupid Snape mouth and lie about being experienced_ –

"You mean leave _you_ hanging," Blaise corrected, grinning at Theo's irritation.

"Shut up, you'd listen just as hard as anyone if he'd tell us," was Theo's snappish reply. "Hey – hey you! You'll have to tell me anyway when I win, so don't think that conversation is over…!"

"Sure of yourself, aren't you?" Toby said, the smirk on his face only barely staying in place. "Think about it while I'm gone, though – a separate party'll be perfect."

Entering the dorms and seeing Draco – wait, he wasn't there. Here.

_Thank Merlin for small mercies_, Toby found himself thinking as he stripped hastily of his sweaty clothes, not caring whether the room was really empty or not, only caring to Summon Iona before stalking into the shower room half naked and desperate for _water_ and _soap_ and the promise of cleanliness –

It took a while before he stopped feeling nervously for his wand without realising it, as he conjured more than more than enough of his favourite bath soap, fiercely revelling in the spicy scent, barely able to stop the horrible thoughts from briefly dancing around in his head. Tobias found himself slumped against the shower wall after ten minutes of trying not to claw at his scalp instead of actually wash it, and made a very abrupt decision to let himself cry, if only for a minute.

A minute grew into five, but he was smart enough to know when to stop. Which was now.

_Thank Merlin I'm silent now_, Tobias thought, dully. He shoved aside the issue of the disturbance or whatever the fuck it was for the next ten minutes as he carefully towelled himself dry to the happy hissing of Iona as she writhed in one of the sinks he'd filled for her, making a thorough mess as she just as thoroughly enjoyed the warmth of the water. Watching her calmed Toby down somewhat, and the ten extra minutes to compose himself wound down to only five. Which was why he was scooping his glistening snake out of the water when Theo stuck his head round the ajar door of the shower room.

"I didn't offend you, did I?" was his blunt opening. Toby stared at him instinctively, knowing enough to make it a puzzled one instead of an angry one, because there was simply no way for his new friend to understand –

"Not really," was the most Tobias was able to say and say truthfully as he began to dry a very wet Iona carefully in his arms. He knew this feeling all too well – the one that threaded suddenly through him as he approached the barrier between things he could lie about, and things he would die before he ever did. Somehow, not admitting he was upset to Theodore had wormed its way behind that barrier, and that was disturbing.

Very, _very_ disturbing.

"Was it the thing about Draco?" Theo said, finally entering the shower room, a cautious tilt to his shoulders. Toby managed, just managed not to stiffen in surprise. Theo was damned close, and probably didn't even know it. And would probably never know it –

"No, it's not him, not exactly. It's just – " Toby's mind raced obligingly – " – what I did in the Great Hall was absolutely useless, in terms of everything. In terms of that fucking meeting, I just…" He let his voice peter out convincingly, stroking the last droplets of water off Iona's skin as he warmed to his tale, watching Theo's reaction out of the corner of his eye. "The reason I agreed to this whole thing was to get a bit of…leeway, I think." The next few bits would have to be carefully handled – not too much information, and delivered in just the right manner, that was how he needed to do it – "Frankly, my other uncle, Cosmin, despises me, and made every effort to make my life hell back home. Here, because of the apprenticeship, things are better, and I have a chance of making sure they stay that way. Getting on the wrong side of Severus would make all my plans useless at this point, and I'm frustrated with myself on that point. You understand?"

"I think so," Theo said quietly, his body language and – Toby sighed guiltily to himself, knowing that some Legilimency now just couldn't be helped – surface thoughts displaying a much firmer answer. Despite the guilt and leftover ragged, depressing confusion from the shower, Toby felt an odd spark of warmth within him. Having someone that obviously trusted him just made him feel – good. A little more guilty, but that couldn't be helped, either – "Still interested in talking to us lowly small-nosed peasants?"

Tobias took the opening, surprisingly unashamed to work it for all it was worth.

"No Snape can call himself a Snape," he said magnanimously, drawing himself up and affecting to look down his nose at his friend, "without that blessed ability to forgive others for not being as well-endowed as himself."

Theodore snorted, holding open the door for him with a slightly nervous (but not overtly frightened) look in Iona's direction as she and Toby swept past.

"Trust you to make it all about endowment," he muttered loudly, shutting the door as he followed Toby into their dorm. "Now, about that party…"

Tobias allowed himself a small, private grin as he spotted Blaise poking warily at his bed curtains. At least they were still interested in the bloody idea, even with him being gone for – almost half an hour? The grin widened almost of his own accord. Maybe doing this whole thing wasn't that much of a mistake – he seemed to have taken to it well enough, and since Blaise and Theo believed him…

"You found him, then?" Blaise asked redundantly, now unabashedly peering under Toby's bed.

"No, he found my evil twin," Toby returned, tone dripping with sarcasm as Blaise regretfully withdrew so he could put a slightly twitchy Iona into her box. "Honestly, Blaise – "

"Don't blame him, Toby, he comes from a family with a tradition of constantly stating the obvious."

"Fuck you, Theo," Blaise said absently, now tracing his wand in patterns over Toby's very locked, very warded trunk.

"What are you doing?" Toby asked, genuine curiosity swamping him as threads of light began to bloom over his trunk.

"Testing the wards on your trunk," was the short, terse answer.

"You don't know?" Theo said, shooting Toby a surprised look. "Everyone tries to break into each others' trunks at least once a week. We started doing it fifth year, and it just sort of stuck," he added helpfully, waiting until Iona's box was warded and safely stowed away under Toby's bed before he tried to take a seat. Toby tried to look surprised, hoping that he pulled it off – Snape had actually used that fact to spur him on during his training. It was bit of a cruel tactic, especially since his uncle had not scorned to remind him of the various books and writings he'd desperately want to be kept private. "Yours never budges, so we all keep trying."

"And you're surprised when I say privacy is overrated," Toby said, injecting disbelief into his tone. "_Ridicol_ – "

"Right, that's not budging," Blaise said, abandoning the trunk after the threads of what an alarmed Toby noticed was actually very close to the right unravelling spell fell apart for the fifth time. "So, this party thing."

"Yes," Toby forced out, setting a firm internal reminder to double up the damned wards on each and every possession of his in Hogwarts as he took a seat on his bed beside Theo. "The idea is that we leave the Summer Party at the right time and just continue it in the dungeons for a bit. No teachers, no kids, you know – "

"That's mad, we could so easily get caught – "

"My dear uncle's not going to be here that evening, fortunately for us," Toby said, twiddling at his hair as he forced a smirk onto his face. "No one cares what happens down here, do they? Well, maybe apart from that – that 'h' house – "

Theo looked vaguely amused. Blaise just rolled his eyes as he grudgingly supplied the word: "Hufflepuff?"

"That's the one," Toby said, purposely making his tone smug. "And some high-grade Silencing charms should take care of that, if they're put up well before the event."

"Look," Blaise said, sighing noisily as he sat down on the bed next to Toby's. "Let's say you do go through with this mad idea. Just – you know, like we were really planning an extra party or something."

Toby frowned, nearly without thinking. What was he supposed to say to that? Theo probably wouldn't agree if Blaise didn't, he knew that much – "I don't – "

"Like, say…what will you do for music?" Theo cut in, looking deeply interested. "It's not like the Weird Sisters'll agree to do it for you – "

"Charm-in music, you idiot, what else?" Toby's heart faltered within him – he'd really not thought about the mechanics here, and would just have to wing it on his faint knowledge of Wizarding music –

"You actually have some?" Blaise ventured.

"The best," Toby said enthusiastically, praying, just praying they would just buy this and help him.

Oh, and that his taste in music wasn't hideously outdated, or really odd. The only band he could think of that played music vaguely alike what Dud – his cousin (_Merlin, but he hadn't thought about _him_ in ages_) had played loudly in his room was actually the only one he'd ever heard of as selling music charms from anyone – "Van de Kamp, two full sets of recordings. Real drinking music, you know?" Then Toby suddenly remembered that horrendously cheesy stuff Severus had assaulted him with once, saying it was now popular in Romania – "Oh, and I also have some real dance stuff by Ozone, even if it's on the stupid side. That should do for about two or three hours – "

"Just two or three? Why not the whole night?" Theo asked. Toby tried not to shout in victory – Merlin, they actually seemed to believe his bullshit –

"Because we would be caught, you arse," Blaise answered, before Toby could say anything of the sort. "Be hard not to miss the fact that more than forty people were missing from your house if you were Flitwick, wouldn't it?"

"If you mean Snape, Toby's said he won't be here, so it's bloody perfect for an all-nighter," Theo argued stubbornly, looking rather excited at the prospect. "In fact – "

"I bloody meant Flitwick, you idiot," came Blaise's annoyed answer. "If you'll just think about it – "

"But we're not inviting anyone from the other Houses, are we?" Theo retorted, turning rapidly in Toby's direction. "Are we, Toby?"

"What do you mean, 'we'? It's my party," Tobias said a little belligerently, despite the fact that his heart was thudding hard in his chest and firmly on the side of the 'we'.

"You can't do it on your own, though, can you? You'll need our help," Theo shot back.

"And there I was, thinking you said it was a mad idea," drawled Tobias, as sarcastically as he could make it. This was turning out so well now –

"I didn't say it wouldn't work, or that I wouldn't support it," Blaise retorted, just as hotly as his friend. Toby rolled his eyes, inwardly shouting for joy, and favoured both Theo and Blaise with questioning looks.

"So we're actually doing this, then?"

"Fuck yeah," came the rapid answer from Blaise. "So, Toby – what are you going to charm the music to?" Toby fought a smile, knowing he was expected to act at least a little irritated at his idea being tossed at at first, then deliberately answered –

"To the walls. You know that empty dungeon near our usual lab? One of the walls seems to have the appropriate magical resistance, so – "

"The party room, you mean?" Theo interrupted. "But that's huge, and the seventh years and prefects won't let us use it – "

"Oh, it's called the par– no wonder the wall's perfect – "

"But that's huge, and the seventh years and prefects won't let us use it," Theo said pointedly. "It's like this tradition, they only ever use it for their extra graduation party, and – "

"– if they're all invited?"

"As well as every prefect from each house? Because they'd tell on us, they all check that dungeon on their rounds – " Blaise asked, tone growing sceptical. Tobias rolled his eyes – _he just implied he wants to invite Ravenclaws, for goodness' sake, what can be the bloody problem with other houses_ –

"Just the most influential, the ones who aren't averse to a bit of drinking and dancing out of sight, you know, that'll make sure no one tattles," Tobias said grudgingly. "It's not like any of them's going to turn down free drinks and a place to dance in private. And why are you so nervous about asking them, anyway? You want the Ravenclaws down here, at least, don't you?"

"It's easy enough to get the Slytherins to come," Blaise said, sighing impatiently. "But the other houses are different about things like this, you know that – "

"So you're telling me only Slytherins will be interested in having a separate party?"

"No, he's telling you it'll take some tact getting them to commit themselves," Theo said soothingly. "We'll need to appeal to their nobler sides or something, don't you see? We could say it's just an extra opportunity to relax, and leave them to draw their own conclusions about the purpose of the party without feeling like we're corrupting them." Toby sighed, wanting to argue, but gradually able to see the point Blaise and Theo were making. As irritating as it was, he could see someone like Hermione being suspicious if they outright announced it as a chance to drink and debauch themselves away from prying eyes.

"What I don't see is how on earth and where on earth we're going to start on going about this whole complicated mess," he found himself complaining. " This school and its daft Houses and politics and shite – can't even through a fucking party without thinking about it – " Blaise gave him a mockingly encouraging look.

"But all that thinking's great for you, Toby – after giving a few parties here, you'll have learnt how to manage all kinds of people – "

"And who to talk to's easy, Blaise knows everyone important," Theo said hastily, cutting his friend's mocking tone off. "About the refreshments, though – "

"Just alcohol," Tobias said, hoping he sounded decisive enough to convince them. "The Summer Party's going to have food in abundance, so that's not an issue. And besides," he said, flopping backwards onto his bed, "if I start thinking about convincing the bloody Hufflepuffs that we won't poison the food, my head's going to _explode_."

His head was actually very near exploding, but – Toby grinned to himself as his friends bickered over whether they would ask the prefects and so on to bring their own drinks – for very different reasons.

Toby launched into their argument on the side of asking the prospective, er, partygoers to bring their own stuff. It had been nerve-wracking, and would still take a lot of work to pull off, but the 'disturbance' looked to be well underway. Now, if the – er, his uncle's outing, that's what he could call it – would just go properly…everything would be perfect.

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_A/N: Wow, wow, and wow. Can't believe I finished this, really. I hit a cunningly disguised sticking point at this chapter towards the end, but somehow worked through it – can you tell? It was really fun writing this chapter for me, and way easier than writing the last one because I've gotten back into my rhythm for this fic, which was a blessing, as I did have a rather busy two or so weeks. Sorry it's taken this long to update, and do report on any errors you see so I can fix them, as I am still beta-less for this story._

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	5. Chapter 5: The Making Ready

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_A/N: In which the party looms ever closer, and Tobias has an important meeting at the very end. Of the chapter, that is. _

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**Chapter 5: The Making Ready **

Thursday morning, Toby practically bounced out of bed, feeling unaccountably chipper for a day he knew would usher in the seemingly innocuous departure of his uncle from Hogwarts for the Party Weekend. Which was what everyone had started calling it, after news of the separate party – make that Separate Party – had spread among the students.

Like wildfire, honestly. Toby grinned to himself, ignoring the heavy feel of his now-regular morning arousal as he strolled round to the other side of his bed, meaning to root around under the bed for Iona, who had evidently chosen to sleep in her box last night.

" Iona? Psst – come on, it's time to open your little snakey eyes," Tobias whispered gently, feeling giddy with how silly he must sound. "Come on, girl, wake up – "

"Do you know you sound like you're talking to a lover?" Toby blinked, tensing slightly as he heard the distinct noise of Draco – it had to be him this morning, didn't it – "The way you carry on with that snake's disgusting, sometimes." Toby forced a less hostile look on his face, then suddenly remembered that he could always turn it into something more longing, more wistful, something that would suit –

"Draco, if you want another chance with me, you only have to ask – "

"Oh, for heaven's sake – " Draco's head appeared from the sanctum of the green curtains around his bed, followed by his bare torso. His unmarked, unharmed, perfectly smooth torso. "Just _drop_ it, I know you don't like men – "

Tobias tried not to grind his teeth, and was surprised to find that the desire to take a sharp knife to that torso was easier to dismiss this morning. Besides, there were far less dangerous ways to piss the idiot off –

"Because I'd drop Tracey for you in a heartbeat, in a _heartbeat_, I swear – "

"Oh, so you're really fucking her, then?" Tobias' face flooded with pink as he finally found Iona's box, suddenly feeling like Draco could see his arousal from two beds away, could see his pathetic crush on her from that distance – "Because I'd love to know how you managed to get her to talk to you," Draco continued, a definite leer colouring his tone now. "She never talks to me – "

"I'm not surprised, what with that attitude you've got," Toby said, only managing to keep himself from snapping. "Though it's no surprise considering how prudish you pretend to be. You really don't know anything, do you?" He lifted the lid off Iona's box carefully, not wanting to startle her. "There's only so far you can force someone into something they don't want to do, and there's only so far you can get with that kind of approach – "

Draco snorted derisively. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from you, you know, with all your flashy spells and your dodgy borderline 'defence' crap. You act like there's not fifty different spells for that kind of thing – "

"Which is moot if you can't get that kind of thing without resorting to magic," Tobias said, cutting him off as he tried to peer into the box without moving it. "Oh, come on you lazy thing – " He dragged the box out, wanting desperately to involve himself in something other than this useless conversation with someone he was more likely to murder than to chat to, and found – "Fuck." – nothing. "Fuck, fuck and _fuck_ – "

"It's really on your mind, isn't it?"

"Fucking shut up," Toby ordered, rising swiftly to his feet, eyes scanning the floor and the area around his bed already. "Stay in your bed, you idiot – " Draco, paused in the act of slipping out of bed, rolled his eyes at him.

"Look, just because you're giving some stupid little party this weekend – "

"Does death by snakebite sound good to you?" Toby spat, pulling apart the curtains and rifling through his messy sheets.

"What do you mean, death by…" Draco's voice trailed off as he, no doubt, realised that Tobias was serious. "Do you mean – you can't find your snake? Your _poisonous snake?_"

"Make that poisonous missing snake and _stay in your bed_," Tobias snapped in return, fishing out his wand to try a tracking spell. "My anti-venom's in my trunk, and my trunk is very, very locked this morning, so I suggest you stay there until I've found her."

"You don't mean to say," Draco said, incredulously, "that you wouldn't open your fucking trunk just to get out anti-venom to save one of our lives?"

"I'm not warding that thing again," Toby said, carefully going through the clothes strung round and about Crabbe's bed, which was beside his own.

"You heartless bastard – "

"It took me three hours and a cup of blood to get that spell right, Draco dearest," Toby reeled off, the details of the fake spell already coming together in his mind, just in case – "Forgive me if I'm not quite ready to go through all that again, just because some fool couldn't keep still in his bloody bed."

"And the part where it's your damn snake that's missing doesn't mean anything to you, I suppose?" Draco demanded, his voice getting higher and higher in volume as he went on. "I can't believe this – "

"You know, you're pretty lucky she's all but deaf," Toby lied, casting a careful, low-grade sensing charm around Crabbe's bed just to make sure Iona wasn't tangled somewhere in the covers, or hidden between the headboard of the bed and the wall, or something. "She'd probably have bitten you by now, if she was in your bed." Draco turned a satisfying shade of red at that, which would have been more gratifying if Toby could just find that damned snake and –

"Hey, Theo – "

"Piss off, Draco," came the automatic murmur as the curtains around Theo's bed shivered open. "Hey, Toby, what – "

" Iona's out, Theo. Stay still, I'll find her – "

" Iona – what? What d'you mean, out – "

"What is wrong with all of you?" Blaise's voice pronounced, sounding tired and angry and very much like Blaise in the mornings. "For fuck's sake if you're getting up now, get up and get out _quietly_ – "

"Can everyone just shut up?" Toby half-shouted. "The reason it's noisy is that my damn snake's gotten the jump on all of us, and I can't find her, and I'm not interested in seeing anyone die this morning, so stay. In. Your. BEDS!" Shocked silence greeted him as he headed for Draco's bed next, ignoring the look of well-concealed fear on his face as he blazed a tracking spell over it, no longer worried about what might happen to anyone in his dorm. The way the other boys – now all awake except Goyle – were twitching and stealthily reaching for their wands boded ill for Iona's health, and the last thing Toby wanted to do was indirectly cause her harm. After she'd saved him, after she'd led him on that torturous path to –

"Toby, I think you need to calm down," Theo said slowly, his voice as calm as his suggestion. Toby disregarded it, moving down to Goyle's bed with a singleness of purpose that seemed to boil within him, suddenly only able to think of how he'd be alone in the school, totally without real allies if Iona got hurt, or died. Severus would have to leave anyway, wouldn't he? He couldn't be seen to care – he'd probably have to twit him about it in public – "Toby – "

"Be quiet." Toby cringed inwardly at the stony aspect of his voice, and could only think he'd never sounded more like his uncle in his life –

_What's all the noise about?_ someone seemed to say, and Toby suddenly stiffened, as had everyone else in the room, because that was her, and Toby sighed in relief as he ducked down carelessly to see if – right. There she was, all curled up next to some box that was vibrating and giving off heat, looking for all the world like she'd just been taking some kind of morning constitutional.

"There you are," Toby said, closing his eyes so it wouldn't come out in – that language, coaxing Iona out onto his left arm as firmly as he could, baring his arm as much as he could with his other arm engaged in drawing her closer to him. "Come on – good girl – "

_I don't see why I cannot be warm_, Iona lamented noisily, grudgingly succumbing to his coaxing. _Your bed gets cold when you are gone_ –

"You wanted to be warm, didn't you? Silly thing, I can put you in your box, but only if you don't run away," Toby said, fighting the almost hypnotic slurring of his speech as hard as he could, ignoring the spooked looks they were all giving him now. "I'll turn up your heating charm, okay?"

"She can't hear you, you twit," Draco muttered, quailing under a swift look from Toby. "Merlin, all that trouble over a fucking animal – "

"Snake breeding," Tobias said tightly, manoeuvring a still-grumbling Iona into her box, "is an ancient and revered art. It is not my fault that the Snapes have the touch, and your family does not. Mock her again," he continued, firmly shutting Iona inside the box, "and we'll have a little test to see if she can really hear me or not, when I tell her _not_ to keep biting you – "

"Toby, Draco, drop it," Blaise ordered, giving Toby a very slightly pleading look. "Can everyone just stop with the noise? Toby's got Iona back now, so there's no reason why Goyle and I can't sleep in like we want to – "

"Goyle's doing just fine," Draco insisted.

"And I'm _not_, and if I hear any more arguing this morning, I'm going to start throwing hexes," Blaise said coldly, poking his bleary head out of the hangings. "Yes, Draco, that includes you. Now fucking shut up." The dark head disappeared once more, leaving Draco with a hard look on his face and a twitch in his wand hand, and leaving Tobias more than a little surprised at that display. Blaise had always been bad-tempered in the morning and full of dire threats to noisemakers, but he'd never gone so far as to actually threaten Draco directly since Toby got here –

"Come on, Toby, we need to talk," Theo said hurriedly, floating his slightly crumpled uniform and towel after him. Toby followed suit, ignoring Draco's nasty glare on the way out because the happiness of his waking was gradually filtering back into him. By the time he reached the already busy showers behind an interestingly silent Theo, he was positively smirking again, unable to stop gloating at how well everything looked to be turning out. "Right, what the hell was all that about, anyway?"

"Morning blues," Toby said, shrugging as he put a strong water-repelling charm on his clothes and piled them beside Theo's own messy set. The noise of water and boys discussing Quidditch and the merits of girls seemed to absorb them both into the steamy atmosphere in the room, and it was oddly comforting, reminiscent of Gryffindor in a way that made Toby feel like looking round for – for his old friends. _God, I've got to stop thinking like this in the mornings_ – "Well, on Blaise's part, anyway. I don't know what Draco's problem is with me, sometimes – "

"Apart from the fact that you're constantly baiting him?" Toby grinned at his friend's droll assessment of it.

"Well, I do try…" Theo snorted, scratching sleepily at his head as they killed time in front of the showers upon discovering that all of them were full.

"It's the territory thing, I think. He's been so – you know, looked at, watched, like the way the entire fifth year of Ravenclaws is always staring at you at lunch – " Theo ducked a slightly off-target Jelly-Legs, laughing out loud as it was absorbed into the damp stone wall nearby. "I'm serious, really," he said, breath back under control as he ignored Toby's mock-glare. "He used to complain about it sometimes, but we all knew he really enjoyed it. He was worse than Potter, honestly, and now – now that you're here, everyone rarely looks at him, and – "

"Just shut up, will you? It's not like I enjoy it – "

"You _do_," Theo crowed, ignoring the fact that Toby was heading for a just-vacated shower stall, "…well…maybe not as much as Draco, Toby, but come on, you're always late for lunch so everyone watches you when you come in – "

"And?" Toby called back.

"And you're constantly being nice to all the girls," Theo went on, voice getting farther as he possibly entered another vacated stall, the smirk so strong in his tone that Toby could practically see it on his face. "You know how it affects them, and you just keep on doing it – "

"So you're saying I should be a rude berk to the girls, or something?"

"Actually, I don't think that would work, they'd probably be taken with you acting like you lived in a paper bag."

"And I disagree, because girls don't like berks," Toby said, matter-of-factly, despite the fact that he did sort of know it was quite a lie. Look at how people had been about Ja- ah. He turned around in the shower, hastily clearing his mind of the thought before it could blossom fully in his mind. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing such as being too careful there.

"Berks, yes, handsome, sexy Romanian berks, no." _Thankfully_, Toby added in his mind, getting ready to disagree anyway. As berkish as he was supposed to look like, he'd draw the line at being needlessly arrogant.

Or at least try to have some semblance of humility or confusion, really. "What does my being Romanian have anything to do with – "

"Say something in Romanian, then."

"What – what does that – "

"In Romanian, Toby."

«You're a fucking idiot.» Tobias paused, irritation threading lightly through him as Theo practically giggled. As right as his friend was, this was starting to feel like a slightly embarrassing waste of time. "What the hell does that prove, anyway?"

"That you have an accent, and girls here are always going to like you for it. Face it, Toby – you're too sexy not to lose our bet – "

"Oh is _that_ what this is about?" Toby cut in, feeling relieved that he could latch on to something that didn't involve discussing his sexy points any more than necessary. He really had to be careful with topics like this around Theo in the future…

" – because even _I_ wouldn't refuse a dance with you if you asked. You're just that sexy."

"Shut up."

Theo merely laughed, and, a few minutes later, began to sing to some horrid, off-key tune of his own making. "_Tobias is too sexy, too sexy to win_ – "

"Shut it or I'll shut it for you, Nott – "

"Ooh, are you going to kiss him, Snape? Come on, you two, give us a show!" Toby contained an indignant splutter as someone sniggered in the background. That idiot had sounded oddly like Draco, but not quite –

"Theo, remember that hex I used on everyone first morning I was here?" Toby made sure to keep his voice as carefree and light as he could, the sudden irritation clouding his head practically preventing him from hearing Theo's slightly distressed answer.

"You bastard, I'm just having a laugh, I didn't – "

"But I'm fine with that, Theo," Toby said, trying to contain his sudden desire to take out his wand and set up a Ring of Pain so bloody painful that no one would be able to contain their screams – "I just want to make you cry, after your little laugh – "

" – cry out in lust, oh, fuck yeah, give it to me, Toby – " Now _that_ was Draco, sounding a little unconvincing in his – er – role as a bedroom partner –

"Draco, fuck off!" …and _that_ was Theo, taking issue as always, though Toby couldn't blame him in the least –

" – oh _harder_, Toby, _harder_ – " Toby rolled his eyes at the slightly drawn-out whine, and just stuck his head out of the shower. There wasn't any time for the violent argument that would probably ensue between Draco and his angry friend, who were now glaring at each other over by the sinks, so he'd just have to put a stop to it –

"Oh, piss off, Draco. You're not even convincing…" And there, Draco was looking round with an angry look on his face, and not paying attention to Theo any more.

"Can't take your own medicine, can you, Snape?"

"Correction, Draco, I _won't_ take it. Know why? Because I'm not adverse to using the _Adnitor_ on you until the only thing you resemble is the lump of shit you are. So you'll shut up and wash out your filthy mouth, understand?" Silence reigned in the shower room, the only sounds the ones of awkward washing and whispers of and about his threat, and Toby felt a hot thread of satisfaction burn through him again. He wondered briefly who had actually started the stupid argument as he ducked back into the shower to rinse himself off, but put it at the back of his mind as something to consider later, maybe even examine in the penseive session he was sure would follow the raid and the parties. "And people fucking don't sound like that, Draco, there's more of a breathy whining thing going on – "

"Why don't you just stuff it up your arse, you fucking Romanian halfwit – "

"Let it go, Draco, we all know you've only been with your hand," Toby shot back easily, stepping as arrogantly out of the shower as he could bear to and smirking as Draco stiffened and averted his eyes on his way into the one next to him. "Oh go on, take a look, I'm sure you need fresh material by now – "

Theo's bitterly sarcastic voice interrupted him. "Yeah, your hand must be hurting you by now – six years of constant wanking does that to a person – "

"Take that back, you – you – "

"Merlin, the two of you are like rabid dogs around each other," Toby quickly interrupted, not wanting to bother to even try to referee the impending confrontation. He _accio_-ed both sets of their clothes, apprehension mounting in him as Theo barely even noticed, moving angrily towards Draco's shower. "Come on, Theo, Tracey's probably wondering where we are – "

"Oh, so he's in on it, eh?" Draco said, smirking as he stuck his head out of the shower he was now occupying. Toby sighed, thanking his stars that he was now near enough to grab his friend's arm, knowing it might actually be useless at this point in time. "Who does he fuck, Snape, you or the Davis whore?"

"You take that _back_ – " Theo said after a moment of strangled protest, starting to struggle out of Tobias' grip, something which he cautiously decided to put a stop to almost immediately, preparing to cast the most careful Calming charm he knew. "I'm warning you, Draco – "

"You know, they probably want your stinking little prick out of the equation by now, Theo. Tracey probably wants it from a real man, now – "

"Oh go find someone to fuck," Toby said amiably, relishing how Draco's face darkened. "It'll help, I promise. Later, Draco…" He hustled a calm-ish Theo out of the shower room as fast as he could, practically shoving him into the near-empty dormitory, where Blaise was finally getting ready to go for his own shower.

"Take it off me," Theo said, immediately, gulping with repressed fury.

"What?" Toby said, ignoring the way Theo was staring and staring at him. "I didn't – "

"Yes, you did. Now, _take it off_."

Toby gave Theo a long, hard look, not even trying to pretend the innocent look on his face was real. "All right, then, as long as you don't start foaming at the mouth. _Finite_."

"You're one to talk," spat Theo, making Blaise look up from his half-arsed preparations with surprise. "So you're telling me you're the only one allowed to bait him – "

"Yes," Tobias found himself saying cockily, giving his fuming friend a mock-challenging look. "If I can't have him, then…"

"Oh give it _up_!" Theo shouted, voice going strangled with some emotion Toby wasn't quite sure he even wanted to know the root of – "You're not gay, he's not gay, he doesn't fancy you, so _fuck off_ talking about it!"

"Theo, calm down," Blaise said, pausing as Theo began to move angrily across the room towards his bed. "He was only – "

"Only joking? Don't give me that, Blaise, you've never been on the end of Draco's little fucking phobia, have you? I've had to listen to – to _that_," he said, voice going deathly quiet, "for three years. Three _fucking_ years, and you," he said, gesturing violently in Toby's appalled direction, "have _no right_ joking about what you don't understand."

"Just as you've got no right assuming what I do and don't understand," Toby said quickly, voice forcedly calm. There was no point comparing battle scars here, really – he couldn't afford it, to say the least. "Look, I'm going down for breakfast – "

Theo sniffed insultingly. "Running away, more like it – "

"Believe what you want, Theo. All I know is there's no point talking with you if you're too angry to think." _Or, rather, if I can't quite read your mind without getting hit in the face_ – "See you in Charms, Blaise…?" Blaise gave him a slow nod, still wavering in the doorway as Toby slipped rapidly into his clothes and began to head out, ignoring the deeply discomfiting way Theo glared at him the entire way out.

Toby sighed as soon as he was free of the hostile atmosphere in his dorm, wondering how on earth everything was going to come together for the party and everything else now. He couldn't afford this, for bloody –

"Hey," someone deliciously familiar said as they bumped into him on his way into the Common Room. "In a hurry this morning, are we?"

"Morning, Tracey," Toby said, suddenly finding that he was in great peril of staring firmly below her face. His brain seemed to drop all the way down to _there_ when she gave him what seemed like a dazzling smile and nudged him along, looping her arm through his as they threaded through the sleepy, thinning crowd in the room. _It really isn't fair, the way this crush has gotten into me_, he thought a little dazedly, trying consciously not to breathe in the fresh scent of the fuzzy, damp little curls that batted him in the face as she turned to look behind them briefly. "Have a good night?"

"Couldn't bloody sleep," was the abrupt answer as she seemed to give up on trying to see something, turning her face a little up to his, making him shiver and think dreamily of his cock in her – _mind out of gutter, you_ – "Millie's shagging it up with this seventh year who found their way round the charms, and – "

"Let me guess, no silencing charms?" Toby battled briefly against the intoxicating pictures suddenly fighting for ascendance in his brain, trying to stop thinking of cocks and curly hair and –

"Badly done ones, I think," she said lowly, biting guiltily at her lip. "God but it was a bad deal – there'd be no sound for fifteen minutes and then I'd just hear this _oh_ – " Tobias only just managed to laugh instead of asking something profoundly stupid ("Would you like to let me show you how to say that on your own instead?" coming a disturbingly close second to "You sound so bloody sexy saying that") as Tracey giggled a little, that sound playing even more havoc with –

_Oh wait, shouldn't I be talking? Or_ –

"You know, I think something's going round in our house," he said wryly, thinking back to the actually not quite badly faked sounds Draco had been forcing out. "Fucking seems to be on the collective brain – "

"Oh, so it's not on yours?"

"Dear me, no – my adoration for Draco has simply spoilt me for anything less than making love, I'll have you know."

Tracey gave him a terribly amused look as they rounded the corner, passing two Slytherins engaged in some heated discussion or other. "You're still doing that, eh? I heard he actually hid, the first time we ganged up on him…" Toby shrugged, feeling oddly comfortable as he grinned at her again – at least she wasn't going to take him to task over that.

Not that she'd even quite know why to do so, or anything…

"I'm not quite sure about that – he certainly wasn't in the room when I ducked in for a much-needed shower – "

"Why'd you need it?"

Toby looked down sharply, and saw an interestingly ambiguous expression on her face as they separated briefly to ascend the stuffy stairwell. "Was sweaty from practice, that's all."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that – "

"The sound of what?" Toby asked, suppressing the sudden urge to elaborate, to add something to that offhand statement. _My voice? The fact that I might just jump you soon enough if you aren't careful, using my skills to wow you into moaning my name, and gripping at my_ –

"You make even practice sound dirty," she giggled again. "God, me – never thought I'd call anything a Snape said sexy – "

"You really think I'm sexy?" Tobias said, trying and failing to sound anything but slightly plaintive. He looked up briefly to ascertain where all the buzzing was coming from, and was rather shocked to find that they had just entered the Great Hall.

"In a word, yes," Tracey said absently, tugging him along when he almost stilled in shock and – _right, not defining any thoughts right now_ – "I'm not quite sure what it is, but you've definitely got it. In sacks."

Toby took several deep breaths as they finally reached the emptyish Slytherin, ignoring the looks and whispers as best as he could so he could make conversation without sounding like a berk. Then, as they sat down, he realised he hadn't said anything since he'd winked at a blushing Hannah Abbot (feeling vaguely guilty as he did so for encouraging her obvious fascination with him), and hustled to make amends to his partner (_breakfast partner. Not like she'd agree to be anything more. Or like I'll ask_) as soon as he'd snagged the piece of toast he was most interested in.

"So you'll be on Theo's side with the whole bet thing?" Tracey looked a little startled, but hardly missed a beat as she took a sip of her apple juice, obviously thinking it through.

"Probably, yeah," she said, quite seriously. "I've bet on you – or am yet to bet on you getting snubbed only forty percent of the time, so I'm not exactly an ardent supporter – "

"Forty, eh? What about Theo?" Toby probed, feeling oddly magnanimous towards her after that little confession. It just felt interesting to have someone _not_ think he was infallible after all, but not think he was completely useless either.

Unfortunately, Tracey wasn't feeling half as magnanimous with her answers as Toby was hoping she would. "Not telling."

"Why not?" he demanded, knowing his tone was low and that the look on his face was probably Faintly Dangerous. Perfect for these moments, in fact – "I could make you – "

" – ah, but you wouldn't. We're in public, you see."

Toby rolled his eyes, and, feeling the faintly dangerous look on his face turn into something more challenging without his even having to think about it, praised someone unnamed and very special for agreeing to his unnamed and equally special training with Severus. "And?"

"Ooh, go ahead and spank me, then."

"My pleasure," Toby murmured, leaning over suggestively, knowing she'd refuse in a moment –

"Piss off, you idiot, I didn't mean it," she snapped, rolling her eyes at his roguish smile in a very sort of sort-of-pleased-but-not-quite-wanting-him-to-know-it way, which made him tingle down there yet again. "And I won't tell you because Theo's not here, and you can ask him yourself if you really want to know."

"What does Theo not being here have to do with – "

"Because the fact that he's not here and he still hasn't come down to breakfast probably means he's upset, and the fact that you're not with him means it's probably at you." Toby fidgeted slightly, wanting to curse her attentiveness almost as much as he wanted to curse himself for not being careful to control things without looking like it earlier downstairs in the dungeons.

"Well, fine, so he's not quite happy with me right now – "

"Not quite happy doesn't cover coming down to breakfast on time, Toby," Tracey said giving him one of those 'You might as well admit it' looks that he'd half thought only Hermione and perhaps Ginny had the right to know how to give off like that. "You know how he is about being on time, just as much as I do, so it's definitely not like – "

"Fine, I'll admit he's very angry – "

"Why?"

"Well – "

"Well…?" Toby sighed. She was definitely not giving him an inch, and it wasn't annoying so much as completely aggravating, despite its potential usefulness to him – he hardly knew what exactly had driven Theo up the wall, and hadn't even begun to think about his probably close guesses like he should have. This would help, despite the discomfort of Tracey grilling him like she was born to it. Despite the fact that he didn't quite mind it as much as he probably should, being talked to like this, but anyway –

"Me, him and Draco were having this stupid little toss-up in the showers, right, and it was looking like getting a bit out of hand, so I sort of intervened."

"Sort of."

"Yes." Tobias winced, but refused to volunteer anything more before being asked for it – that was the way to looking suspicious, strangely enough. Being reasonable, and agreeing with everyone –

"Sort of, meaning you quietly and calmly asked Theo to calm down 'sort-of', or – "

"I sort of put a calming charm on him," Toby admitted, the odd feeling that he was sitting here talking to Hermione intensifying. Except for the fact that he was still sort of suppressing the urge to eye up her tits –

"A calming charm?" Tracey said, expression sceptical, voice just this edge of disapproving, just like – Toby suppressed a nervous gulp – just like it was when she was talking to (or rather, snapping at) Draco.

"He'd probably have kicked me in balls if I hadn't," he pointed out, a little sheepishly, inner Severus already well into the berating stage. "Fine, I know it was probably stupid – " _Which you were. Denying a supposed ally of his chance to prove himself, as foolish and immature as it might have been. You really _are_ a fool_ –

"Are you really friends with Theo at all?" she asked, cutting him off. "Because that was just…probably about the most infuriating thing you could do to him, I think." Tobias sighed, poking at his pile of sausages, appetite suddenly quite gone.

"Really?" _No_, inner Severus replied sarcastically, before he could stop himse – itself – god, this was confusing. Tracey sighed.

"Really. I admit, it is like you to take the unsubtle approach – "

"Me, unsubtle?" Toby said, making sure he sounded dutifully outraged, ignoring the inward snort he was so damned sure Severus would have replied with, with a nasty smile and possibly nastier illustration added to boot –

"You," Tracey said, rolling her eyes again, "are probably about the most unsubtle boy I've ever met."

"You're joking," Toby replied, his inner Severus ominously silent, hoping his voice wasn't really shaking as much as it sounded like it was. Christ. Merlin on the North Tower, he could be _fucked_, just because he was so – Severus had told him, had warned him –

"I'm not – sometimes, you're really transparent," Tracey was saying easily, paused in the act of polishing off her jam sandwich. "I mean, anyone with the eyes to see knows that you can't stand Draco, for whatever reason. That's actually why I thought you were friends with Theo at first, because Draco can't stand Theo at all – "

"That was the last reason I'd – "

"And that whole bet thing was just…" she shrugged her shoulders, eyes narrowing as she seemed to try to think of a word to describe whatever she was – "…weird. Like you were trying to prove something. Because you obviously know how attractive you really are – "

"Not really," he couldn't help insisting, fingering his goblet reluctantly, really hoping that she was actually being honest about her ever-so-slightly-off predictions about him.

"And the whole thing with your uncle is just…" she shrugged, shaking her head. "You really don't seem to care that he hates you. And he's the only relative or person you really know in, what, a thousand-mile radius…?" she tried again, but Toby wasn't quite listening, because the roaring triumph in his ears was so loud –

"It's like mutual friendship," he said, shamelessly borrowing something Severus had said to him much earlier, "just without the friendship." At her dubious look, he continued, getting into his stride. "That's just how our family is, really. You learn to put up with it or go mad, eventually…"

"Bully for you, then," she said, voice a little softer than before. "Just – Theo's really not that way, I think. All the teasing Draco's done, all the remarks and everything, and then you just – just silence him when he's fighting back. I don't know how to say it, but – "

"Well," Toby said slowly, relief settling in his chest. "When you put it that way…" She gave him a terse little smile.

"So, you understand why I won't tell you, eh? Fair enough."

"Fine." Tobias looked down at his hands for a minute as she continued to eat messily beside him, wondering if he should bother. It seemed, at once, the stupidest thing he could possibly want to know, as well as something that might ease the atmosphere between them a little bit (which was very, very smart, of course), but still – he sighed. Fine, indeed. "But I wanted to ask – "

Tracey rolled her eyes, sighing. "Merlin, do you ever give up? I've already said – "

"I've got just one more different question, just one more, I swear – " She sighed irritably, stretching easily across him to get at the marmalade on the other side of his plate. He tried not to suck in his breath noisily as she brushed against him, and restrained a blush at the stupidity he was probably about to exhibit.

"I know you'll ask anyway," she said pointedly, spreading the marmalade in an interesting pattern, "Just go ahead."

It was niggling at him, and would probably keep on doing so, so instead of replacing his foolish question with a more sensible, banal one, he opened his mouth again and prepared to let it stumble out. Foolishly. Although he probably wouldn't sound that way, because his voice was now –

Right. _Ask_.

"You said I had 'it', or something, but I was wondering why in sacks?" Tracey stared blankly at him for a moment, then began laughing, almost hysterically, gripping the marmalade so hard that it worried him just a bit – "Tracey, are you…"

"In _sacks_," she gasped, finally giving up on the marmalade and thumping it back on his side. "I just reamed you out – 'bout Theo – you ask – in _sacks_ – " Toby smiled awkwardly, not quite understanding why on earth she was laughing so hard.

After that, the rest of breakfast wasn't so hard to get through. Toby forced himself to leave the table when it was clear that Blaise and Theo probably wouldn't make it, and he and a slightly pitying Tracey were only just in time for the first lesson of the day, which was Charms.

* * *

"Settle down, settle down," Professor Flitwick kept saying, even as more almost-but-not-quite-late students streamed into the airy classroom, two of whom were Toby and Tracey. They found themselves sharing a desk with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Wayne Hopkins (a Hufflepuff sixth year that practically lit up when he realised Tobias would be sitting next to him) near the front of the class, and were therefore in an excellent position to see Theo come in on his own, looking horribly sullen.

Toby sighed inaudibly. Theo had avoided even looking his way despite the fact that the only empty seat was actually only the desk behind them. He eventually found his way to it, but by that time Flitwick was briskly ordering for quiet as he began to speak on the topic for today, which looked to be another delving into the subject of Conjuration. Today they were going to be Conjuring water in various forms and learning in general about it, and Toby couldn't quite care less.

Honestly, who would, when the lesson would likely only contain vague charms for conjuring water, ice and steam? Toby sneered – he'd learned things like that quite a while ago, and from a far more demanding and far less restrictive teacher, and really had no desire to conjure water in streams with his classmates today. Unless it somehow involved wetting Tracey down thoroughly.

Tracey smiled at him as Flitwick began the demonstration, and Toby didn't hold back his slightly savage response. Maybe, just maybe he could arrange for that to happen…

"Why are you grinning at me like that?" she asked suspiciously, voice prudently low, and Toby saw no reason not to tell her.

"I was just thinking how interesting it would be to turn that water conjuring charm on you," he replied, tone cuttingly honest. "I'd finally see how thin you really are, you know – "

"And here I was thinking you didn't have a dirty mind," came the amused reply. "Really, it's disappointing."

"Oh come on, you can't say that the idea doesn't have its merits. It's hard to carry on an illicitly torrid romance with someone if you've no earthly idea what they really look like." Tracey stifled a giggle as Flitwick droned on, and Toby continued in the same vein, abandoning the pretence that he was writing notes at the same time. "There's also the fact that Draco'd probably die of a heart attack, into the bargain. What's not to love?" But evidently something about that idea wasn't quite as funny as he'd hoped, because Tracey, despite her low giggles, didn't look as amused as she had a second ago, causing Toby to want to kick himself.

What _was_ it about Draco that set her so on edge? Theo's thing he could understand, and even Blaise's, to an extent. As far as Tobias had been able to tell, Draco had never been very pleasant to anyone except Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, and maybe Daphne Greengrass. But Tracey, who he was always sucking up to…? It boggled the mind.

Toby sighed and shifted in his seat, preparing to go another round of teasing what on earth he'd said wrong out of someone, only to discover that a highly irritated-looking Flitwick was standing right in front of their desk.

"Mr. Snape? If you'll please demonstrate the charm, seeing as you have such a grasp of it that you don't need," Flitwick waved at his empty roll of parchment, causing it to take flight and display its meaningless doodles all-too-prominently to the class, "to take notes." The parchment slithered down to Tobias' desk and rolled up with a quick snap. "I don't believe I need to remind you that the incantation is _Aguamenti_…?"

"No, Professor Flitwick," Toby replied, cheeks colouring as he stood up, wand in hand. Flitwick eyed him suspiciously, then swiftly conjured a glass and set it, hard, on the desk before them.

"Begin." The word was almost snapped, for Flitwick, and Toby allowed himself a moment of bitter reflection as to why on earth he had to play this character that teachers seemed to dislike on sight so easily, then waved his wand, whispering the correct incantation. Water streamed smoothly from it into the glass, the stream ceasing abruptly just as the glass became full. Toby gave Flitwick a slightly more defiant glance than was necessary, but did not dare sit down. It was one thing to _look_ Snape and sneer and be unfailingly rude and disrespectful to authority, and it was entirely another thing to actually step over the fine line between annoying a professor that could probably make or break his plans for the Separate Party and _really_ annoying one. "Such control, Mr. Snape. Care to share how it was taught to you?"

Toby blinked. Flitwick had a cagey, crafty sort of expression on his face that, in the context of what he'd just asked him, gave cause for alarm. But really, he could hardly smirk and say he wasn't going to answer useless questions. Only his uncle could likely get away with such outrageous behaviour, so…

"Practice and determination," he offered, a little tonelessly. Flitwick nodded, and made a sort of impatient gesture Toby took to mean he could sit down again.

"No, really, Mr. Snape, I'd like a detailed answer," he said brightly, Banishing the water in Toby's glass with a careless flick of his wand.

Toby's eyes narrowed, and he tried briefly to convince himself that Flitwick didn't actually mean him any real harm by asking something like that. "For a year, my uncle made me fill one or two glasses that way every day. As I said, it's just practice – "

"Ah, but practice proves insufficient in learning finer spells. And yet, Professor Vadim continues to enthuse to me about your mastery, especially in the field of defensive Charms," Flitwick returned. The whole class, which had been fidgeting and gossiping quietly amongst themselves as usual, started to really pay attention. "Such control, in one so young…it worries me somewhat, actually. It takes experience, Snape, such that you cannot already have obtained at such a young age – " Toby stared at him. The only place he could see this going was an uncomfortable one –

"Professor, I really don't understand what all this has to do with Conjuring water," Toby said, adding a very real tone of boredom to his reply. It was really starting to look as if Flitwick was suspicious of him somehow…and, despite the fact that it was probably a very prudent stance to take at a time like this, it bothered Toby a great deal. Professor Flitwick had always been a sort of flighty, benevolent constant to him as – well, before, and despite the guardedness the man had displayed towards him so far, he'd never really come out and hinted at his mistrust of Tobias.

Not that that would really be bad for his plans in any way. Toby suppressed the desire to fidget as Flitwick gave him a thoroughly assessing glance. The truth of the matter, as he well knew, was that it would only enhance his credibility as an unscrupulous young Slytherin if someone as genial as Flitwick didn't appear to trust him.

That didn't mean it wouldn't feel horribly wrong when Flitwick finally said so, of course.

"If you'll just be patient, I will get to my point, Mr. Snape." Flitwick toddled over to his desk and sat down. "As all of you should know by this point in your studies, Charms is an all-encompassing subject, and includes all sorts of diverse spells. However, one of the principles behind the subject takes into account the lack of experience of every student, and their related inability to cast a Charm beyond a certain level of strength and effectiveness." Toby tried not to let his eyes widen – someone had to be joking, here – "Which is the reason I am so curious as to your methods, Mr. Snape. Such experience, such control," he stressed the word, "is so uncommon at your age – "

"I'm afraid I really don't know how to answer your question, Professor Flitwick," Toby got out slowly, trying not to let himself look in Ron or Hermione's direction. He'd expected distrust, but not like this –

"Really, Mr. Snape?"

"Really, Professor," Toby replied, through gritted teeth, feeling the eyes of everyone in the classroom devolve upon him as Flitwick nodded slowly.

God, this was so much the equivalent of painting a 'He's so Evil' sign right over his head that it was unbelievable –

"Such a shame," Flitwick murmured, giving him a sharp look. "Well, then, class. Wands out! On your feet, everyone – we'll all try the charm at the same time…"

* * *

Toby tried not to slam the door as he left Flitwick's classroom, mostly because he did know that Tracey was following him out, and that other people were doing so as well. Even so, releasing his seething frustration right now was the only thing he could think of, and that was even worse, because, because of the damned Separate Fucking Party, he had to meet with a group of influential people from different houses he and Blaise had sounded out over the past few days, and he had to do it in the only free time he really had to devote to any sort of frustration release today: during lunchtime.

Perhaps walking into their joint Transfiguration class angry wouldn't help anything, but _honestly_, right now, Toby couldn't care less. Couldn't care about the plan, about the Party, about _the_ official party, about what or who he was supposed to be or impress or deceive and he just wanted. Out.

"Everything all right?" Tracey's soft question only served to frustrate him more. No, everything was _not_ all right! He was in Hogwarts! He wasn't _himself_! Flitwick was practically accusing him of using some kind of Dark method to learn a fucking water-conjuring charm, and Theo – "Are you going to sit down any time today?" Toby glared in Tracey's direction before he could stop himself, and tried to contain the odd desire to follow it up with a cold smile as she flinched, just a little.

Silence stretched uncomfortably between them for a second as other students bustled into the classroom around them, and then someone thumped down beside Tracey on the opposite side of Toby, and when he looked up from his nervously doodling, clenching hands, he discovered that it was Theo.

_Breathe_, Toby told himself. _Just breathe_.

"I saw that," Theo said quietly, as Professor McGonagall began to call out directions to the mostly seated class. "Heard it, too. That how you treat all your friends, Toby?"

"Theo, just leave it," Tracey started to mutter, but McGonagall had suddenly appeared in front of their little group, Blaise hovering nervously behind her, and before Theo could protest, was practically barking out instructions to the slightly startled group.

"Miss Davies, please sit by Miss Granger. You're far ahead of Nott and Snape by now, they'll only slow your progress down, especially since neither of them has yet to see anything significant in their trances." She gave Theo and Toby hard looks, her eyes seeming to linger more on Toby. "Unless either of you has had some sort of breakthrough in the past two days of repeating your homework…?" Theo shook his head, outwardly contrite, and Toby tried to stop his already-forming derisive glare from being quite so much of a derisive glare. "I thought not. Miss Davies, please move."

Tracey nodded, sucking in a nervous breath as she piled together her books and roll of parchment, tapping the pile firmly so it rose off the desk. "Look after my bag, all right, Theo?" She got up, began to squeeze past a very disgruntled-looking Theo, then paused, as if remembering to say something. "And don't let him bully you into thinking he thinks you're an idiot. It's all part of the Snape thing, you know?" She gave him a nervous smile as she squeezed past, resolutely avoiding Toby's eye with a determination that left him momentarily speechless.

It didn't last. "What in the buggering hell does she think – "

"Wow – can you believe that, Theo? I think he lasted all of five seconds…" Blaise gave him a slightly gleeful grin (more than was really necessary, or so Toby couldn't help thinking) as he poked him in the arm. "Budge up, I'm not mediating for you two now. I've got an essay to get started on." Toby closed his eyes for a moment, moving down to sit beside an obviously uneasy Theo with very bad grace. Blaise ignored him, settling into his chair and, true to his word, fishing out a long roll or two of scribbled-on parchment.

Theo stirred next to him, trying to peer round Toby's form, as he was hunching over the desk and sort of blocking eye contact with Blaise. Not quite on purpose, but –

"Before you ask, Theo, I can't work on this essay during lunch, because I'll be subbing secretly for the prefects and all that. You know, keeping order and whatnot." Even when Theo stiffened beside him, Blaise kept on going, in that sort-of-airy, not-really-questioning-anything tone, as if nothing had happened. "You know, Theo – like you promised to do as well? So Toby could handle the meeting all on his lonesome and the prefects don't worry about the school going to pieces while their backs are turned – "

"And if I don't give a flying shite if he can handle the meeting or not?" Theo shot back. "And anyway, I never promised to – "

"That conversation ends now," Toby interrupted suddenly, after trying to convince himself that he really should. "Yes, you know – the one you're carrying on about me without my input?"

"Oh don't give me any bullshit about input, you tosser – "

"Mr. Snape! Mr. Nott!" McGonagall rounded on them, looking fierce. "I sincerely hope I do not have to call you to order again, at such a sensitive time for some of your classmates. I assure you that it will not be pleasant, understood?" The both of them nodded curtly, Toby itching for her to turn her back on them so they could get back to insulting each other – er, well. That seemed to be what it had degraded to, didn't it?

"So if you think," Theo began, in a heated whisper, but Toby was shaking his head, suddenly too weary to answer anything but: "I'm sorry."

"If you think that…what?" Theo stared at him, looking a little wide-eyed. When no response was forthcoming, he sort of tried to lean around Toby to get a look at Blaise. "Did he really just say – "

"Sounded like it," Toby was faintly amused to hear Blaise say, quill paused in its cautious scratching. "I wonder if anyone would believe me if I said I'd heard that. I can hardly believe it myself – "

"Good," Toby said, sinking back into his chair. "I'm certainly not going to repeat it."

"Bastard," Theo muttered, but his tone didn't have the necessary sting, and he was giving Toby another one of those calculating looks that made him feel as if one of them somehow _knew_ he was a – "Saying that doesn't cover it, you know."

"I'm not stupid, Theo. Doesn't mean I'm going to kiss your feet, either." Theo gave him a faint smile, enough that Toby felt encouraged enough to continue. "Not only because that's completely out of character for me, but because Draco would have such a jealous fit – "

"Merlin, you're never going to let that go," Theo said suddenly, looking a little awed and oddly, a little irritated. "You know, I don't think I've ever known anyone to be more of a bastard than you in that way."

"Really?" Toby went still, and, pasting a look of mockingly fake gratitude and wonder on his face turned towards his thoughtful-looking friend, "Oh, Theo, how touching – "

"I'm friends with a madman," Theo replied, rolling his eyes.

"And only now you realise?" Blaise said, flashing a snide smile in both their directions. "I'm disappointed, Theo – "

"Shut up," Theo returned easily, seeming to turn his attention back to Toby. "But you do know that that apology won't quite stand, don't you?" At his nod, Theo continued. "And you do know that I'll be quite in my rights to hex you the next time you try that?" Another, slightly slower nod, and Theo looked down at his hands, feigning indifference. "So you're still having that meeting, I take it?"

"No, I've decided to wash my hair, instead. There's this new drying charm I want to try, and my hair's starting to loose its _shine_. You idiot." Theo rolled his eyes, Blaise sniggered, and Toby, once again, felt right at home.

Now, all he needed to do was apologise to Tracey as well. Which didn't seem like it would be too hard, considering the sort of approving looks she was sending in their general direction as McGonagall hovered over the group of students that were making the most progress, blatantly ignoring the skittishness of the rest of the class as she conversed rapidly with Terry Boot and some girl (Turpin? Turpan?) over in the left corner of the classroom.

* * *

"So," Toby said sharply, directing a slightly lazy _Colloportus_ at the door as everyone squirmed nervously in their seats, "here we are."

And there they were – approximately thirty people, all prefects or influential sorts in their respective houses, and most of them fidgeting and giving a rather hungry Toby suspicious looks because of one little spell. He suppressed a tired, disappointed snort. As if he knew of some insidious way to kill them all right in the middle of Hogwarts and not be caught, or something –

"Why'd you just lock the door?" Toby restrained his slight flinch at the deeply suspicious tone of Hermione, and made himself look at her properly, just as if she was some weird kid in his year that he didn't quite know or care about apart from this moment. Which was what everyone would expect, instead of him running into her arms and bursting into tears or –

_Right. That thought stream ends here and now…_

"So no one sneaks into the classroom after us, or spies," he said as easily as possible, trying to sound world-weary instead of eager to please, thanking God that he'd thought to sort of inwardly prepare a speech. "I gathered a meeting like this would probably garner lots of attention, so…" Hermione nodded slowly, still suspicious, but obviously ready to trust him. For a little while, at least. Toby stifled a sigh, thanking his stars Ron wasn't here – he didn't know how on earth he'd have continued – "So, down to business. As you all know," he said, heading strategically for an empty desk in the midst of the edgy prefects and seventh years, "I'm having a separate party for the older students after that blasted Summer thing down in the Party Room, or," he allowed a smirk to rise to his face, "for the uninitiated, the dungeon second across from my uncle's office."

The objections, as Toby had expected (and as Blaise, Theo and later, Tracey had easily predicted), began almost immediately.

"What? But that's so bloody big – "

"I thought you said this was a party, not a plot to steal house points, Snape," Ernie Macmillan said angrily, almost half the other students in the room nodding angrily along and whispering between themselves.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, stop babbling," Toby called out, making his voice hard enough to cut through the arguments that had started among them. "Snape's – well, Professor Snape is going to be away on business leave as of this evening, and won't return until Monday next week, so there's no reason to worry." Toby gave them all convincing glances. "Well, apart from about the – ah – more law-abiding students you have in your houses."

"You mean the sneaks, don't you?" Hermione said suddenly, eyes boring into his face. Toby answered politely all the same, ignoring the way his heart was beating a mile a minute and hoping, hoping, hoping that she wouldn't see – wouldn't recognise –

"Yep. Tattle-tales, sneaks, rats – whatever you want to call them, really. But none of those – I'll have more than enough on my hands dealing with keeping all of you people from braining each other on the dance floor, I suspect."

"Oh please – "

"Oh for fuck's sake, the only reason I've ever heard of people from different houses meeting here at Hogwarts is to try to spell each other into the ground," Toby said insultingly, voice rising over the clamour and protests coming from everyone around him. He mentally checked his tone for the right amount of irritation and disgust before continuing.

_I have to get this exactly right…_

"Why'd you think I'm even bothering to talk to all of you about this? Anywhere else, I'd just be able to pass the word by talking to a couple people and telling them I don't want a bloody war on the dance floor, but here…" he shook his head, glaring at the gradually quieting room. "Here, you can't even keep the war out of your classes – "

"Don't condescend to us, you twerp," some slightly familiar-looking Ravenclaw prefect said sharply. "You don't know _anything_ about the war, so just – "

"What I know about whatever war's going on out there is that it's stupid," Tobias hissed in reply, anger bubbling up into his chest, making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He tried to contain it, despite the growing irritation with himself for forgetting how angry this whole thing actually made him, and did not quite succeed. "I've never heard of a smart war in my life, and I don't expect I ever will – what kind of war drafts kids? Kills children? There's always been some kind of muggle or wizarding fucking war in Romania for about a hundred years, so I think I'm quite justified in saying that I'm _sick of it_."

Silence reigned, magnifying his anger as his scars itched, as his head throbbed with the beginnings of yet another headache. One of those headaches whose origin he could no longer tell, no longer felt safe dismissing – "So forgive me if I don't want to have to separate hot-blooded idiots on the dance floor in the early hours of Sunday morning. If you know anyone in your house that can't control themselves and whatever stupid bigotry that's popular in this war, tell them to keep their fucking arses clear of my party, because I won't discriminate when I'm blasting them out the door."

"Fair enough," the Head Boy (Edward Carmichael – he'd never been able to remember his name before) said, voice manifestly uncomfortable, hands gesturing in a distinctly placating manner. "We'll – "

"So you really aren't on a side in this war?" Hermione challenged, a hard look in her eyes, ignoring the ever-more uncomfortable silence that filled the room as people shifted in their seats. "You think you can just sit on the fence, just not choose, when there's – "

"Think of it this way," Toby said smoothly, letting his tone become patronizing. "I'm a Snape. My family's known for its independence and intelligence. I am, therefore, not going to go beggaring to whatever fucking side, because Snapes do not relinquish their dignity or their sanity to _any_ cause. Now, what that has to do with a party, I really don't know. Was there a point in you asking that, Granger?"

"Just curious," she said lowly, lips thinning disapprovingly as he rolled his eyes at her. Carmichael gave her a distinctively annoyed glance, and Toby found it hard not to smile – the whole outburst just then, despite its obviously unwelcome nature, was just so quintessentially –

"Fine, Granger. Now, can we get on with this, everyone?" At the eager nods Toby saw go around the room in response to Carmichael's suggestion, he shifted slightly in his reclined position against the desk and continued.

"So, sneaks not allowed, hotheads not allowed. Everyone's clear on that?"

"Sorry, Snape," someone familiar-sounding said, "but it sounds like you've cut yourself out of attending your own party with that last – "

"What's your name?" Toby interrupted, irritation causing him to grit his teeth as he tried to locate the cause of it.

"I'm in your house, you tosser, you should know." A smug, handsome, vaguely familiar face greeted Toby's searching eyes, and suddenly he thought he recognised that voice. From the showers, this morning, before Draco –

"If I don't know your name, why the fuck are you here?" Toby replied, tone perfectly polite.

"Oh Jesus, his name's Urquhart," Katie Bell said, rolling her eyes as she fiddled with the Head Girl badge on her drooping lapel. "_Can_ we get on with this, Snape? About eight of us have Transfiguration after lunch, and you know how McGonagall gets."

"No problem. Right – drinks will be Butterbeer, Firewhiskey and cider," Toby said, shaking back his hair. "Please provide younger students (I'm assuming no one below fifth year'll be encouraged to come) with either a good, strong hangover potion, or tell them to keep their mouths shut. Bringing in extra alcohol is allowed, but you are responsible for what happens with it and to it. Dress code is strictly non-formal – if you're wearing formal robes at the door, I'll de-robe you. It's a party for relaxation, not for showing off, so keep your jewellery out of the room as well – I won't be held responsible for anything that gets stolen from you. Oh, and the door will be closed once the room is full, or at about an hour after the party starts – "

"What about trips to the loo, and all that?" Ernie Macmillan asked tentatively, making Toby sigh inwardly with relief. He'd furiously researched this whole party business in between classes and persuading all of these bloody people to be here, and found that there was some sort of potion to render trips to the toilet needless, as well as slightly lower the inhibitions of the subject. The perfect potion for parties, as it were –

"That's easy, I'll have some _Caesi Mixi_ on hand." Toby felt a spark of pride warm him – he'd been half afraid that he'd forget what the damned thing was called, or say it wrong, and instead –

"Where will you get it from?" demanded the Ravenclaw prefect that had spoken before, looking resoundingly suspicious. "It's not the kind of thing you can just order around here – "

"Actually, I was intending to just piss in a cauldron and add milk," Toby found himself saying viciously. "I can make it in my sleep, for crying out loud," he continued, rolling his eyes as he hoped, prayed, _screamed_ at himself for putting his fat head in such a position, because from the look of grudging awe on the girl's face, he'd probably be sweating over the damned potion for days – "The issue is whether you'll all want the stronger version or not."

"How much stronger, Snape?" Ernie said curiously. "I heard it worked for twelve hours – " Tobias snorted disdainfully, mind still racing over the sorry mess that his weekend was increasingly looking like as he answered.

"Twelve hours if they're twelve hours with no water or food at all is more like it," he said condescendingly. "Three hours if you're being moderate and two if you're really getting sloshed – those are more realistic times, I think. My family's version extends the really sloshed time by about an hour, but it negates the effects of one or two common hangover potions." _And has an anti-suspicion charm hexed firmly into it, which will definitely help_ – "It negates potions with ginger in them in any shape or form, to be more accurate. The upside, of course, is that we won't have to round up everyone for another sip just when the whole thing's really starting to get interesting."

"And I suppose part of the downside's the fact that you might poison us all and lock our bodies in the Party Room to rot, eh, Snape?" Urquhart said, smiling nastily. Toby clamped down on his anger and frustration as much as possible, channelling it, instead, into an equally nasty smile in Urquhart's direction.

"Of course, that _would_ be the smartest decision of the century that I could make here," he replied breezily. "I'm sure I'd be the last person anyone would think of blaming for such a flaming travesty, don't you?"

"So you know how to make a Continence-Augmenting Potion," one of the Slytherin girls said hastily, giving Urquhart a hard look. "Where'd you learn how?" Toby gave her a thoroughly sarcastic look and, ignoring her question (which he couldn't truly answer anyway, as he'd never learned to make such a potion. Which reminded him of how bloody hard he'd have it in these last few days, making it by himself or something), continued to speak from where he'd left off on instructions for the event.

"For those of you who are wondering what I mean by de-robing you if you're wearing robes in that dungeon, well, I meant just that. So, do we have a consensus? Remember what you're agreeing to, please – no sneaks, no tattlers, no impressionable youngsters, no one who can't hold their drink, no robes, no jewellery, and no one in or out of the Party Room after the thing's been on for an hour. Any objections?" He saw Hermione relax a little into her chair, and tried to shake off the feeling that he'd give anything to know what she was thinking right at that moment, concentrating, instead, on giving everyone level, unEvil looks to make them see that this was really a series of reasonable propositions, as opposed to one that would ensure every potential spy on the Order would be in that Room for a good while.

"Sounds like a plan," Carmichael muttered cautiously, and it was all Tobias could do not to jump up and start gyrating on the table in victory. Murmurs of agreement went round the room, and no one but Urquhart and maybe Draco looked anything more than carefully excited about what the weekend would bring.

"I'm glad you think so," Toby answered, as politely as he knew how. Carmichael nodded in reply, and everyone began to ask the more mundane questions like what he'd have for refreshments and music. Tobias, despite his lingering panic over his ability to provide everything in such short order, fielded the questions calmly, and soon enough was heading out the door and flirting with a distantly pretty Slytherin prefect, Emmeline Vaisey, whose brother he just as distantly remembered was on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

* * *

It turned out that Emmeline was more than happy to discuss the merits and demerits of Quidditch with him much later on the way to dinner. Toby, still immersed in planning and worrying about making the _Caesi Mixi_ potion _and_ sorting the music _and_ making sure there weren't nasty surprises in the slightly derelict Party Dungeon, had just been emerging from another difficult Transfiguration class with a nervously prattling Tracey at his side. Emmeline had turned up seemingly out of nowhere when they were halfway from the Great Hall, and after an awkward start, was now going merrily on about her brother's huge blind spot when it came to Quidditch, with well-timed intervals of her coyly staring up into his eyes (being tall had its disadvantages) and brushing suggestively against him.

All Tobias found himself interested in was how Tracey was managing to keep a straight face, and as Emmeline regretfully sauntered off to join her friends a little way away, he finally asked her.

She rolled her eyes. "You learn, here, after a while." Toby sank down beside her, trying to convince himself he was only doing so because – well, that was an exercise in futility. He hung his head slightly to conceal his slightly sheepish smile as he thought about the whole unlikely situation, and sort of wondered if he'd ever have liked her before his whole transformation.

He shrugged inwardly, feeling guilty despite the fact that he knew the odds of him noticing her when she seemed to work so hard to fly under the radar were distinctively low. It felt shallow somehow, to come from liking Cho, transition with Ginny, then end up…here. Admiring curly hair that he knew was probably highly annoying to her, like Hermione's –

Toby sighed, shutting down yet another train of useless thought, and focused his attention back on Tracey instead. "So, how did Transfiguration suit you?" he said lightly, starting to put food on his plate, before remembering that she was probably pissed off at him for being nasty to her and that that question would only –

"Are you going to dance around the fact that you can be really rude sometimes?"

Remind her. Toby tried not to sink a little into his seat as he sighed his reply. "No. Please tell me you love me despite the fact that I can be a berk…" his voice trailed off as he realised exactly what he'd just said. _Could I not just have stuck my foot inside my mouth? What is _wrong_ with me_?

"Erm," was all Tracey was able to say in reply, "not quite. Just know I won't put up with that kind of shit again when you're feeling all morose," she continued slowly, turning away from him to accept a bowl of steaming lasagne from someone nearby. "Being someone's punching bag is a waste of time, I think. Even if they're as gorgeous as you are." Toby stared at her as she ladled some of the lasagne out onto her plate with a slightly careless air. Had she just said – "Oh come on, you did make up with Theo, didn't you? That means you can laugh at my jokes now, you know…"

And laugh he did, albeit a little nervously, as Tracey gave him an amused look before plunging happily into the task of attacking her plate of food. Which reminded him of his own cooling plate of stuff he'd been absentmindedly amassing. Eating and occasionally commenting on Party-related things occupied them both until Blaise and Theo plonked down nearby, arguing heatedly about the merits of cider. Toby had just started to tentatively join in the strange, slightly incoherent debate when he felt the sudden, strong urge to turn round as someone came to a stop directly behind him. At the sudden respectful silence of Blaise and Theo, he knew to turn around, diffident as usual, despite the fact that his heart was beating so strangely and so hard.

Severus loomed over him, looking disdainful and forbidding as always. Toby couldn't quite muster up a matching sneer to reply to the one Severus wore, because – because.

This, in a manner of speaking, would be it. Their final meeting, if anything went wrong.

"Uncle," Toby said, stiffening on purpose as Severus' eyes met his.

"I require your presence in my office immediately, Tobias," Severus said curtly, a dimly speculative look crossing his features as he raked his eyes over the silent group around Toby, who he surmised were looking down at their plates and pretending not to notice the fact that Severus outwardly seemed to want to embarrass Toby as much as possible. "Immediately being the operative word," Severus said, pointedly, turning away.

Toby nodded shortly, and made sure to keep the excitement off his face as his uncle strode casually away, threading through the avoidant students in the Hall with a kind of cocky menace that suggested his pleasure at being able to leave Hogwarts before the 'useless travesty' he'd termed the Summer Party in class earlier on. Toby sighed angrily at his plate, not really registering anything as another cold sliver of dread wormed its way into his heart.

Cocky menace was perfect. Severus gave him a nasty smirk as he caught his eye just before passing through the doors, and Toby had never found it harder to glare back, because he knew this meeting, this meeting he was preparing to go to in true angry Snape style –

"I suppose the question of your being all right is moot," Tracey said, voice low.

Toby smiled at her, knowing the visible effort it was taking not to simply stand and go after his uncle as fast as he could would look more like an effort not to start breaking things. This meeting could be their last, and it was almost physically painful to dally on purpose, as if he didn't care if his uncle met his nasty end over his little holiday. Which he well might, Tobias reminded himself, finally getting up off the bench.

"I'll be all right when he leaves, that's for certain," he said in soft reply, giving a concerned (_for me_, he couldn't help thinking smugly) Tracey a little wink as he left. Blaise gave him a supporting sort of look, and Theo muttered a slightly grudging goodbye in his direction, which he supposed he deserved, all in all –

"Could it have taken you any longer to obey me, Tobias?" Severus' voice startled him horribly as he entered the stairwell. Toby opened his mouth to answer, but his uncle's arm was already dragging him down the stairs and in the direction of his office in the most humiliating manner possible. Toby endured it with bad grace (as if there was really an option of clutching at his uncle's arm like a drowning man) that ceased as soon as the office door closed behind them. And, even then, Severus still tugged him in the direction of the fireplace, obviously meaning for him to Floo somewhere. "Floo to Dumbledore's office, with a password of _eros_. Just call it out after the location, and do step out of the grate as soon as possible – I will be on your heels."

A bewildered and rather twitchy Toby did as asked, stumbling hurriedly out of the fireplace and looking round in vain for Dumbledore, who seemed to be conspicuously absent. Severus appeared moments later, and, as soon as he stepped out of the grate, turned and began to ward the fireplace with the strongest, nastiest eavesdropping-blocking charms Toby had ever heard (and one or two he hadn't) as Toby continued to feel disorientated and confused.

"Albus, I believe we are secure. Draco Malfoy is in the Great Hall, and I have blocked any listening or tracking charms as best as can be hoped for, so you two can take off those ridiculous spells so we can do this as fast as possible," Severus said very rapidly, crossing over to sit at one of the three visitor's chairs, one of which Tobias suddenly realised had an odd-looking sort of depression that looked as if someone might be sitting in it, and –

Albus Dumbledore began to slowly trickle into view, just at the same time as someone began to appear in the same way in the chair with the strange depression. Someone Toby immediately recognised, and couldn't help crossing the room to clasp in an awkward hug as their body continued to appear – Remus Lupin.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," he heard a slightly muffled-sounding Severus say nearby. "We do not have time for greetings, Tobias – "

"It is enough time for a short one, Severus," Dumbledore said, sounding a little weary. Toby disengaged quickly from Remus and took the squashy chair between his and Severus', and couldn't help taking in both Remus and Dumbledore's appearances. He'd seen Dumbledore less and less often in the Great Hall, but had known not to bother questioning it to anyone except Severus, who had been thoroughly evasive. But he'd never seen Dumbledore look so tired and stern at the same time, and it made him wonder if he was using charms or glamours to hide his appearance so that people like Draco didn't suspect anything.

And, of course, there was Remus, who looked as ragged as ever, but with a thankfully hopeful sort of bent to his shoulders and expression as he gave Toby a sort of grim smile. Maybe –

"As we are all here, let us get down to business," Dumbledore said, giving Toby a sort of welcoming nod. "Why we are all here is to debate the possible effectiveness of young Tobias' – "

"It's Toby." Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, and Severus sighed irritably beside him, but Toby refused to look anything other than innocently commanding. "I'm used to that, now."

"I see," Dumbledore muttered, sighing as he continued. "Very well, Toby's little distraction, which will take the form of a – "

"Can we dispense with the formalities, Albus?" Severus interrupted coldly, crossing his arms menacingly. "You well know that I have a limited window of time to devote to this little crackpot meeting of yours, so I suggest we get down to the bloody details." Without waiting for an even wearier-looking Dumbledore's reply, he turned on Toby. "Tobias," he barked, "approximately how many people will be at your disturbance, and who?"

"Severus, at least show him some courtesy," Remus started to argue, sounding oddly cross, but Toby wasn't having any of it. He was perfectly all right with barking back in Severus' face if that was what he wanted, so –

"Remus, I'm quite fine with answering, all right? And, Severus, the figure's about a hundred and twenty. May be up to two hundred people at the party in the end, what with fourth years sneaking in, but that's a chance I'm prepared to take. Oh and everyone from fifth year to seventh is technically attending, apart from people who might be disposed to rat the party out."

"And who decides on those who are to be excluded?" Severus shot back, his expression at once thoughtful and antagonistic. "I do hope – "

"The prefects and influential people from each house decide," Toby said, interrupting him smoothly. "And I get the final decision, anyway, I'll be at the door, and I'll chuck anyone that looks like trouble."

"And if you 'chuck' someone with the ability and motivation to spy on me or on the Headmaster?"

"You give me a list of those people and a short facial description, and I let them in no matter what," Toby replied, starting to feel a little uneasy. "How many people would be on that list, by the way?"

"That is not your concern," Severus said dismissively, still looking thoughtful. "Lupin, Albus? Don't tell me you didn't have any questions prepared…"

"We were politely waiting for you to finish," Remus said aggressively, giving Severus a hard look. Toby hid a sudden smile – those two would _never_ get along in any situation, would they – "Assuming that he has, I have a few questions, Toby."

"Hit me," was the only funny reply he could think of making at the moment, and somehow the swift look of amusement that passed across Remus face was entirely worth the sneer Severus sent his way.

"Right. What are you doing about refreshments?"

"Well – "

"I'm handling that side of the equation, Lupin," Severus interrupted, a little too vehemently to be referring just to the fact that the hoard of Butterbeer and other drinks he'd ordered would be coming in sometime in the afternoon of tomorrow. "I don't suppose you have any other – "

"As a matter of fact, I have," Remus coolly retorted, giving Severus a glare. "Toby, what about music?"

"I think I've got it sorted," Toby said, putting emphasis on the word 'think' as he began to pick a little nervously at the webbing between his right thumb and index finger. It was definitely sort of bothering him – he'd been able to owl in most of the music that he needed, and had spent a night blazing through a book about charming sound to objects and structures with a only his blanket, a Lumos charm and Iona as witnesses, but he still felt quite nervous about the time he'd spend on Friday afternoon and possibly half of Saturday morning actually getting it done. "Theo and Blaise are helping me, so – "

"Who?"

"The Slytherin replacement for Granger and Weasley, Lupin – how daft can you _be_? We are running out of – "

"Severus, do be civil," Dumbledore said, interrupting Toby's uncle's speech with a harder look than he'd ever seen the old man give Severus before. "We have quite enough time to finish this. Do go on, Remus."

"There's a way to do big chunks of music in one go, you know," Remus continued, giving Severus an equally hard look. "I can jot it down for you if you want, and maybe ask Tonks for some tips as well – "

"That would be really helpful," Toby said quickly, cutting off Severus' obviously approaching sneer at the mention of Tonks. "There's also something I was thinking of using, so everyone stays in the Party – er, the dungeon I'm using. One of those continence-increasing potions, you know – "

"Which variation?" both Remus and Severus demanded, seemingly at the same time.

"Well, I found an extended one that supposedly lasts three hours – "

"Rubbish," Severus said immediately, uncrossing his arms disdainfully. "The standard versions of _Caesi_ all have tolerance for four – "

"Not if you're drinking like a naïve student," Remus argued back. "It's nothing like those functions you're dragged to, Severus, especially when they discover the potion for the first time – "

"Which is why I'm interested in having the _Caesi Mixi_ on hand – the one that comes with an anti-suspicion bent as well, so no one's overly suspicious about the entire setup while they're inside, you see?" Toby's nerves increased under the slightly shocked stares of the men around him. "What? Might as well kill two birds with one stone. I checked the formula, and it looked like it might work – "

"You'll show me this formula," Snape said decisively, at the same time as Remus said, "You should show us the formula, so we can decide." They exchanged a long, hostile look as Toby sighed, hoping _someone_ would come to a decision soon –

"Is it the _Caesi Mixi_ contained in Albertnum's _Drafts for the Degenerate_?" Dumbledore said, breaking the tense silence, a familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Toby nodded apprehensively, hoping against hope – "Well, that should work splendidly. Now, as to who will concoct it – "

"I can," Severus and Remus began simultaneously. Severus gave a disdainful sniff.

"I should have access to the appropriate ingredients, Headmaster, and I won't be busy," he said, sneering the last word in a manner that implied all sorts of degenerate actions on the part of Remus and possibly Tonks. Remus looked outraged, and Dumbledore looked faintly bored and weary once again.

"I'm afraid that's the best decision, then," he muttered, seeming to ignore the subtly aggrieved look Remus was beaming his way. "If there's anything else, Remus?" Remus shook his head, now back to shooting Severus hard looks. "Severus?"

"Of course," came the sarcastic reply. Dumbledore seemed to ignore it as well, his eyes now resting kindly on Toby.

"Well, then. I believe that ends this meeting – "

"You don't have any questions for me?" Toby couldn't help but blurt out. "I mean, no suspicion that I won't just lure Draco into the dungeons and kill him? Or – "

"I am under the impression that you are healing in that regard," Dumbledore said, firmly, a briefly measuring look appearing on his face. "So consequently, no, I have no questions." Toby sat back, feeling inordinately satisfied. That Dumbledore trusted him seemed to soothe the nagging discomfort of his position here, and just –

"Come, Tobias, we must be off." Toby rose at Severus' curt urging, and, after another awkward, brief hug with Remus and an even more uncomfortable handshake with Dumbledore, headed thoughtfully for the fireplace.

* * *

A minute or so later, he was stumbling into Severus' empty office, still feeling both reassured and apprehensive of what the weekend would bring. Severus stepped easily out of his fireplace shortly after, already intoning wards and putting up more eavesdropping spells – ones that Draco or even himself would undoubtedly be helpless against.

"As I have been repeating, I do not have much time," Severus muttered his way, heading swiftly for his slightly untidy desk and tapping one of the drawers with his wand. It sprung open with a crack, and Toby hovered curiously as Severus extracted a slightly grubby package from it and shut the drawer firmly. "Open this and put them on," he instructed rapidly, rolling up his sleeves in an uncharacteristically uninhibited manner that made Toby hesitate to tear into the package, which felt a little heavy for something he was supposed to wear.

Sighing impatiently, Severus seized the package and, slitting it open with a curt _Diffindo_, let the contents clatter out onto his desk, which was now between them. "They are arm rings, you idiot," he said impatiently as Toby hefted one a little nervously. "Push them on, as far as they'll go – that's it – "

Toby gave his uncle a hard look as the odd silver things slid easily up his thin arms, feeling oddly exposed as Severus tutted and poked at them until they seemed to shrink down enough to fig just above his elbows. When his arms were surrendered by an oddly intense-looking Severus, he peered carefully at the heavy design that seemed to slide across the wide bands as he looked at them. Noticing a familiar sort of spelling, he looked up – "In Romanian?"

"Yes," Severus said, rubbing tiredly at his left eye. "One of the few Snape heirlooms I was able to coerce from my family during my second visit."

"What does it do?" Toby asked, peering hard at the one on his left arm, on which the Romanian words seemed to be moving in an entirely different pattern than on the bracelet on his right arm.

"Not much," was the shrugged reply. "It should add to your ridiculous sense of mystique if you wear them at that blasted party, though, and it should be clear to you that you need as much mystique as you can get."

Not quite believing his uncle's nonchalant tone, Toby fished out his wand and aimed it carefully at the bracelet. "_Noteo pernicies_." The bracelet shone dazzlingly, prompting him to continue. "_Noteo leporis_…" The suggestion hit his mind like a ton of bricks – suggestion of a dark, all-encompassing cloud of seething…protection?

"You accepted them willingly, and had them fit to your arms," Severus said, tone mortifyingly smug. "They will work, therefore, whether you care them to or not – "

"Couldn't you just have told me, you complete, utter bastard?"

"I'm not leaving you unprotected in this school alone for four days, whether Dumbledore will be present for the most part or not," was the simple, stern answer to Toby's slow, vehement cursing as he examined the bracelets again. "And you _will_ wear them, I assure you, unless you do wish me to flay you alive upon my return."

"And if you don't?" Toby hissed, anger warring with a strange sense of gratitude that was rising irritatingly in him. But Severus merely smiled, nastily.

"Spoken like a nephew that hates even my shadow," he murmured approvingly. "I suppose unconscious framing of this memory as a horrible one is better than none – "

"Bastard," Toby said again, but with far less heat. He tugged irritably at one of the bracelets and sighed when it didn't come off. "How am I going to hide this this evening, anyway?"

"I leave that question up to the machinations of your fragile mind, good nephew," Severus said, his tone sounding even more amused. "One does hope you are not so gullible in accepting trinkets from anyone other than me – "

"Fuck you," Toby said, shaking his head, hard, because Severus had suddenly approached and swept him into one of those stifling hugs, and the realisation that this might just be the last either of them saw of each other had hit him, hard, and he wasn't interested in crying in any form or amount before his uncle, as he would be mocked. Thoroughly.

"The feeling is mutual," Severus muttered, now looking reluctant to let him go as he released him from the shaky comfort of his arms and watched him drift uncertainly towards the door. Toby tried not to sigh and stare at his uncle as he took a seat at his desk, and failed.

"Good evening," he tossed out, in his most sneering manner, because Severus' wand was out, and he was obviously going to take the wards down soon, and he could remember that sometimes their efficacy wavered with an increase in the caster's intent to dismantle them, so he couldn't be too careful.

"Tobias?" Toby turned back, sneer still somehow in place. "The _Caesi Mixi_ was a good idea. Dumbledore will convey the amount you need to you in time." Toby drew in a sharp breath at this unprecedented compliment – Severus had always been critical of the entire idea, so that must mean – "Now stop hovering in my office and take your worthless hide outside."

Toby rolled his eyes, swearing under his breath as he slammed out of the office and, consecutively, the classroom, pretending not to notice someone darting around the corner just to the right of him, in the direction of the staircase to the lower dungeons. The wards behind him on the door seemed to shiver as he glared at the door as convincingly as he could, and he knew inwardly that the special ones had been taken down as he began to head for the Slytherin dorms.

He hid his unexplainable agitation as much as he could the rest of the night, covering it with a veneer of severe irritation and outright anger that his Slytherin friends would understand, but, as the lights finally dimmed in the dormitory, he allowed himself to roll up his sleeves and carefully light his wand, so he could stare at the moving words on the softly gleaming silver bands.

* * *

_A/N: Oh, my goodness. This was so long! I never thought I'd see the end of this chapter, but there you go. I've thought that at least three times per chapter each chapter after the first one in this story, so yeah. Hope you all enjoyed it (I especially enjoyed finally finishing it, I can tell you that), and here's hoping the next chapter will be a bit easier to get through quickly, so you're not all salivating for _Chapter 6 – A Party or Two_ for the next month or something horrid like that. Cheers, everyone – and my especial thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. They keep me going, guys. _

_Oh, and do point out any errors you spot, so I can fix them sometime. Till the next time!_

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